Running out of Time
by JereduLevenin
Summary: A year has passed since the events of Dirge of Cerberus.  If Chaos is what kept Vincent alive, what will happen to him now that chaos is gone?  Mild spoilers for DoC. R&R.   Complete, but I will be revising some chapters and fixing any errors.
1. Chapter 1

Random idea I had after playing Dirge of Cerberus. The ending gave me an idea. If Chaos was what kept Vincent alive, what would happen to him now that Chaos is gone? Mild spoilers for Dirge of Cerberus, mind you. Nothing major though.

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Rating: Umm… T for language, mostly. We all know Cid and Barret have potty mouths.

Pairings: Nothing really… maybe a hint of Vincent/Cloud, but pretty much at a platonic level. If ya wanna see it as Vin/Cloud, be my guest. If ya don't, that's totally cool..

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Disclaimer: FFVII doesn't belong to me. Y'hear that, Squenix? It's all yours. ALL OF IT.

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Running out of Time, Chapter One.

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It was nothing, really. Nobody noticed at first. Nobody DID notice for the longest time. Maybe if someone had, things would have turned out differently.

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Vincent scowled at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't the morning light. There was definitely a strand of silver in his hair. Of course, he knew what was happening. He just hadn't expected the situation to begin deteriorating so RAPIDLY. Sighing, he reached to pick up his gun holster. Then he hesitated. Rather than strapping it to the customary position on his right leg, he pondered leaving it on the table, for once. There really wasn't any need to carry it today. There wasn't any threat looming over Gaia at the moment. But that didn't keep him from jumping at shadows.

With a silent grace at odds with the ungainly appearance of his boots, Vincent left the gun on the table after a moment's debate. He slowly walked down the corridor to the stairs that led to the first floor of the 7th Heaven Bar. He wasn't sure why he'd let Cloud talk him into coming to their little get-together. The whole group was there, with the exception of Reeve, who was busy attending to some other matters. Something to do with the corporation, no doubt. But he'd sent Cait Sith No. 7 in his place. Vincent glanced around the large room with a dour expression on his face. It was a mistake coming here. It would be nearly impossible to avoid getting into a conversation with somebody in the semi-crowded room. He began pacing silently to a more secluded spot.

Vincent stumbled at a sudden twinge in his chest… the scar from Rosso's unanticipated assault on him had been aching lately. Cloud caught his eye from the corner, a silent inquiry. What's up? Vincent shook his head. It's nothing. But now Vincent was worried.

It wasn't anything profound; on the contrary- it was little things he was beginning to notice. Things that shouldn't be happening. Things out of place. A paper cut that wouldn't heal. This sudden fatigue. The twinge in his chest. The silver hair. Things that wouldn't be noticeable to someone on the outside, but they added up to something very wrong with him. The only thing that was PERHAPS understandable was the fatigue… though, without the constant strain on his mind caused by Chaos, he should have been experiencing the opposite effect. And yet… he supposed he did have a certain right to be tired. Unlike the other group members (with the exception of Cloud), he'd been fighting a lot longer than the rest of the lot. Being a Turk amounted to a life full of stress and dying young. He had escaped that fate, but only through twisted means. But he was even older than Cid. True, his body had the appearance of a man in his twenties, but in truth, Vincent was pushing sixty. He had a right to be tired.

But not this tired.

He blinked as he realized he had just zoned out. Cloud was gesturing with increasing impatience for Vincent to join him at the table in the back corner. With a heavy sigh, he (almost) woefully altered his trajectory. This conversation was inescapable; it'd be better to get it out of the way NOW, not later when everyone else might overhear.

He sat down facing the blonde swordsman, returning his blue eyed scrutiny impassively before finally growling a muffled, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Cloud shook his head, glancing up briefly as the door opened and Shelke walked in.

"No… but something's up," he muttered. "…With you," he clarified. "You gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to dig it outta you on my own?"

Vincent averted his gaze. "It's nothing."

Cloud snorted. "That's bullshit, and you know it. You don't stumble. You never stumble. Though, I don't see how you can even WALK in those shoes of yours," he muttered the last more to himself than for Vincent's benefit. "Vince, you don't look so good, either. You're pale. More than usual, I mean."

Vincent scowled at that. "Am I? Huh. That's damn observant of you. So, what… you're keeping tabs on me now?" He turned back to face Cloud, suddenly hostile. "I'm not made out of glass, Cloud. You should leave well enough alone. It's none of your concern. I'm not going to break."

Cloud just met his gaze with troubled eyes and whispered, "But aren't you? That's what this is about, isn't it?" His eyes flickered away, resting thoughtfully on the form of Shelke for a moment. The girl… no, woman. She was twenty, he had to keep reminding himself… was in an animated (or at least, animated for Shelke) conversation with Tifa.

Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him. He hadn't been expecting that response. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know. Not anymore."

Cloud frowned before whispering again, "… it is my concern, Vincent. You're my friend. Friends don't let friends hurt themselves. Or each other."

Vincent blinked in surprise and confusion. "But I'm not…"

Cloud shook his head, cutting him off with a glare. "Yeah, Vincent, you ARE! You're hurting yourself by withdrawing to the point of seclusion. And that's not all. You're hurting US, too. How do you think we feel, not hearing from you in a YEAR after the Deepground crisis, huh? I woulda thought you'd care enough to let us know how you're doing! And as it turns out, you're NOT doing fine. Now, what the hell is going on?"

Vincent smiled; it was more a baring of teeth than anything else. "Truth is, Cloud, I don't know. But I'll keep you informed if there are any changes; how's that?"

Cloud scowled. "Not good enough, but I guess that's all I'm gonna get out of you, for now, isn't it?"

Vincent returned the scowl. "Damn right…" he muttered. "I need some air."

He rose quickly to his feet and walked briskly out of the room, followed by Cloud's "Just as long as you don't stay out too long! What's the point of dragging you here if you stay outside?"

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Vincent slowed to a leisurely maunder. Then he was seized by a coughing fit.

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End chapter one. R&R, folks. The more reviews I get, the sooner I post chapter two!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to all you reviewers!

**Verycrazygirl**- Thanks! I made an effort to make chapter two a little longer.

**Chaxra-san**- Here's your update!!!

**Lord Makura**- Actually… I haven't decided yet if he's going to die. You'll just have to wait and see. I'm thinking Vincent's fate may depend largely on you reviewers. Right now I'm swinging towards a tragic end; if you read my other fics, you'll see why. Tragedy is what I do. HOWEVER, if people beg me prettily enough, I JUST might decide to make it a happy ending. I'm just so fickle like that n.

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Disclaimer: Me no own. FFVII definitely is NOT mine. Just the idea for this fic.

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Running out of Time, Chapter two.

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Vincent staggered backwards and half fell, half sat beneath the window by the 7th Heaven's front door. His diaphragm spasmed and another wave of vicious coughing tore through him. Not good. Definitely very NOT good.

Trembling with sudden exhaustion, Vincent cursed vehemently as the spell subsided. Thank Alexander this hadn't happened before he'd escaped the brightly lit bar. But the sudden attack was worrisome. He seriously doubted he'd caught a bug; the mako in his blood acted as a kind of buffer to his immune system. It was pretty much impossible for either Cloud or himself to GET sick. That was why he had immediately caught Cloud's attention. The others wouldn't really be familiar enough with the peculiarities of an enhanced body; it took many years of personal experience to begin to notice little things like that. It simply wouldn't occur to someone who hasn't lived with enhancements for several years.

But Cloud would notice. Vincent shouldn't be sick. It just didn't happen. It was that simple.

Groaning, Vincent rubbed his aching chest before shakily standing. It was cold outside, something he'd never really noticed before. The cold was making his left arm ache.

Wait.

That shouldn't be happening, either. It had been years since the prosthesis had bothered him; perhaps his body was finally rejecting the artificial attachment…? Vincent rubbed irritably at the line where skin met cold metal. He flexed the fingers experimentally, only to find that the motion was painful. He sighed. Today was really turning out to be dreadful.

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Nobody really glanced up as Vincent walked back into the bar; his friends were all used to his behavior. Tifa had closed the bar for the day so that they could use it as the meeting place. Vincent sighed. Doubtless they'd want to hear about what he'd been doing for the past year; really, this get-together was just so they could all catch up on each other's lives.

He tried to walk unnoticed to a back corner, but Yuffie saw him and bounced over.

"Vince! How's it goin? C'mon over and talk with us! You STILL haven't told us what you've been up to!" Yuffie grinned, exuberant as ever. She reached over to grasp his claw and yank him towards the group. Vincent couldn't hold back his gasp of pain; Yuffie squeaked an apology as he glowered miserably at her.

"Oops! Sorry 'bout that. Come on!" She proceeded to get behind him and literally shove him towards the group. Across the room, Cloud had glanced up sharply at the exchange and was now staring intently at Vincent. The gunman briefly met his gaze, and Cloud raised an eyebrow in a silent "what's wrong?" But Vincent shifted his eyes down and away, unable and unwilling to look Cloud in the eye. He gave a small shake of his head, and Cloud scowled before shooting Vincent a "Fine; see if I care" kind of look. Vincent sighed. He really shouldn't be antagonizing his friends; he had so few. But this was something he simply could not discuss with them.

Yuffie succeeded in forcing Vincent into the little group that consisted of Cid, Cait, Nanaki, and Barret. Cid gave him a withering stare as Vincent shifted uncomfortably. Finally, the chain smoker was unable to resist asking the inevitable "Well?"

Cid planted his hands on his hips and continued, "You gonna tell us what you've been doing that was so important you didn't contact any of us for a goddamn YEAR? And if you tell me you've been sleepin' in that damn coffin again, I swear to Holy, you are in deep shit, Valentine. There ain't NOTHING your fault, y'hear?" Finished, he glared at Vincent, waiting for a response, ignoring Yuffie's stamping on his foot.

Vincent closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I haven't even been to ShinRa manor since the Deepground incident, Cid. I've moved on."

Cid gaped in surprise. "Oh… well… that's great! So what HAVE you been doing?" The others murmured in mutual curiosity. Finally, Cait spoke up.

"Yeah, I think we'd all like to hear that, Vincent!"

Vincent sighed in resignation. "Well… I haven't really been doing much of anything, lately. I… for a while, I was searching for any other files we hadn't yet uncovered on the Chaos project…"

Barret groaned in annoyance. "Dammit, Vince! I thought you were over that! Don't tell me you're STILL diggin' around in that crap with Hojo and Lucrecia?" But to everyone's surprise, Vincent shook his head in contradiction.

"No, you're right. I'm done with that. You've mistaken my motive- I was looking for any files that might contain information about the long-term effects of the experimentation and treatments my body was subjected to during my time in the lab," he explained, eliciting the intrigued nods of the rest of the group. Cloud and Tifa walked over to listen in, and Shelke turned towards the group to listen silently as Vincent gave his account.

"I know that the… modifications Hojo made to my body were to make me into the ideal host for Chaos. And, because of the infusion of Chaos with my body, Hojo had made me virtually indestructible," he trailed off for a moment, recalling a troubling memory.

He shook his head and continued, "Chaos and the other demons also served as a safety mechanism that kept me from sustaining any mortal injuries… Chaos was originally fused with me for the purpose of saving my life, but Hojo took over with the intention of turning me into a weapon, among other things… In the end, Hojo actually did his job well." The others gave him looks of varying states of incredulity. Vincent raised his eyebrows.

"Well, look at me. I haven't aged in thirty years. I can recover in a day from injuries that should kill a man in minutes or leave him crippled or comatose for life. What I want to know is…" He paused. Cloud had been frowning all the while Vincent was describing his body's peculiarities. Vincent could tell that Cloud was beginning to suspect something alarmingly close to the truth Vincent wanted to hide. Cid cleared his throat and Vincent gave him a startled frown. He finished the sentence.

"When is it going to end? Immortality is something I have never desired," he stated flatly; "and another thing… with Chaos gone, I was hoping to find something in the research notes that may tell me what will happen to me. Chaos was the crucial factor in the process of reviving me… I want to know what's going to happen to my body without Chaos to empower it. Perhaps my body will begin to function normally, but I want to know with absolute certainty," he finished. The others nodded in agreement and understanding; Cloud looked troubled. Shelke just gave an odd little half-smile. It seems that all of her friends had some problem or another to worry about… but Vincent would be okay. He always was.

Nanaki raised his head, giving Vincent a curious look. "And what did you find?"

This time, Vincent sighed in defeat and frustration. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Only information that just confirms what we already know. Which is precisely NOTHING concerning the current circumstances." He sighed again before continuing. "I finally stopped searching five months ago. I had already read through all the files at the ShinRa manor several years ago. I scoured what remains of the labs in Midgar, and there aren't any other known labs that were being used by Hojo during the time he was working on the Chaos project."

Barret shook his head before asking, "So… what HAVE you been doing between then an' now?"

Vincent shrugged. "Not much. Travelling around. Killing monsters for Gil… Nothing worth talking about. And, despite what you may think you know, I HAVE been keeping tabs on all of you. I wanted to know if anything were to happen to any of you, because it may or may not be something that concerned myself. Like another clone or Deepground incident. But that is all." Cloud smirked at that.

Tifa smiled and laughed. "You still haven't changed, Vincent. Sometimes I think that someday, when we're all old and tired, I'm going to look up and you'll be standing there, looking just the way you are now." She shook her head in an almost wistful way and the others broke into laughter. Nobody heard Cloud's whisper.

"But you have changed… Vincent… what's happening to you?"

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Vincent backed out of the group to take his customary position leaning against the back wall. He didn't even blink as Cloud walked over to join him. But Cloud's next words caught him by surprise.

"Meet me tonight in the church. We need to talk. I WILL get some answers out of you, but not here. I know half the reason you won't talk to me is 'cause you don't want everyone to overhear, right?" Vincent grunted, refusing to look Cloud in the eye. Cloud growled in frustration. "Look, maybe I can help. The others won't understand; they don't know what it's like when your blood is half mako."

Vincent gave a grudging nod. "They haven't even noticed… I want to keep it that way, Cloud."

Cloud rolled his eyes but finally nodded in agreement. "Yeah… I know most everyone else'll overreact, anyway… but they don't notice anything WRONG, because they don't know what normal IS for somebody who's had mako enhancements." Without warning, Cloud reached down with both hands to grasp Vincent's claw. Vincent froze as Cloud slowly lifted it until he held it before him.

Cloud drew a finger across the back of the metal "hand" before gently taking the fingers and closing them into a fist. Vincent flinched and hissed in pain, but Cloud held his gaze. "That hurts, doesn't it? A lot more than you're showing," and at this Cloud traced up the gold arm to gently touch the place where it attached to Vincent's flesh before letting go. Cloud opened his mouth to speak when Vincent suddenly gasped and fell trembling back against the wall with an audible thud. With his flesh hand, he gripped the metal prosthesis in agony as he sank to the floor. Cloud crouched down, bending towards Vincent in alarm. To his fright, the cause for Vincent's pain was acutely obvious.

"Dammit!" Vincent whispered savagely. Cloud stared in mute horror at the black fabric that disappeared beneath the metal cuff covering the elbow joint of the claw. It wasn't black anymore.

It was red.

Blood had begun to seep slowly up the fabric from the metal ring where the claw attached to Vincent's arm. About an inch or so of the fabric above the metal was soaked and shining dully in the fluorescent lighting of the bar.

Cloud's mind raced. How could he get Vincent out without alerting the others to the situation? Maybe…

"Vincent!" He called loud enough for the others to hear. "Why didn't you tell me you were out of potions? That monster bite looks nasty. Come on, I have some I keep upstairs." Cloud bent down and, with a single arm, lifted Vincent to his feet. Vincent shot him a grateful look before resting a hand on Cloud's shoulder briefly for support. Cloud led Vincent up the stairs, ignoring the curious eyes boring into his back. When they got to the bedroom, Cloud shut and locked the door behind them. Vincent sank gratefully onto the edge of the closer of the two beds. Cloud turned to face him, arms crossed and expression dark.

"Now… what the HELL is happening to you, Vincent? You're not leaving this room until you answer me. Screw the plans for tonight; I want answers NOW."

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End chapter two. I suggest you read my replies to the reviews at the top and R&R if you want to know what Vincent's fate shall be. cackles


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews!!!! I'm on a writing spree- just don't expect me to keep up this pace for very long. I seldom have an entire day to spend writing, but it's my birthday(June 30th), so I had some slack cut me!

**Blindfolded Angel**- You're spot on. That's exactly what's going on. I'll be sure to look into your fics once this plot bunny slows down... I just finished the third chapter. Vincent explains pretty much everything you just described and then some... I've been waiting to write this until I'd finished DoC and READ a good deal of fics for inspiration on Vincent's various ailments, and so I could get his character (as well as Cloud) written right. -hug- Glad you like it so much.

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Disclaimer: Me no own. It's all yours, Squenix! The only thing I claim rights to is the particular arrangement of words that is this story!

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Running out of Time: Chapter three.

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Vincent didn't answer. Cloud continued to glare at him, waiting for a response. But Vincent just shuddered and gripped the prosthesis even more tightly. Finally, Cloud sighed.

"Here. I'll get you a potion. I really do keep a stash up here," he muttered as he moved towards the dresser. He opened a drawer and began digging around. Finally, he pulled out a small bottle of the glowing green substance and tossed it to Vincent. Catching it one-handed, the gunman uncorked it without a second thought and downed it in an instant. Cloud returned to his previous stance- arms crossed, feet firmly planted, expression dark. "I know that won't fix it, but it SHOULD be good enough for the moment. Now," he started again, "tell me what the HELL is happening to you, Vincent!"

Vincent shook his head. "I already told you; I don't know for sure… but…" He hesitated, fixing his gaze on the floor.

"But?" Cloud prompted.

Vincent knew he wasn't getting out of this. He sighed. "I… think I might have an idea. There's just no way to prove it. Look," he said, standing up. Carefully, he found the silver strand he'd spotted earlier. He brought it forward to show Cloud. "Turn on the light."

Cloud complied and returned to the enigmatic man before him. Vincent held the strand up in the dim fluorescent light. "You see this?"

Cloud frowned. "It's silver. So? We live stressful lives. It happens to everybody."

Vincent shook his head. "No, that's not it. Cloud… this isn't stress. Something is happening to my body. Without Chaos… You and I are somewhat the same. Your mako enhancements along with the Jenova cells keep you from aging and give you the same remarkable healing ability that Chaos and mako gave me. But my mako enhancements are next to nothing compared to you. Just enough to slightly augment the physical abilities I already possessed… the bulk of my power came from Chaos, Cloud… and Chaos is gone."

Finally, finally Vincent saw the realization dawn in Cloud's faintly glowing eyes.

"Vincent… just how old ARE you, exactly?"

Vincent gave a sad little half-smile. "Well, that's a little difficult to answer. I… I was in my late twenties when Hojo shot me," he began, "but… in truth, Cloud… I was born almost sixty years ago." Cloud's eyes widened at this revelation. He'd known about the thirty years in the coffin… and that he was fairly young before the lab incident, but… he didn't LOOK that old.

Cloud thought he understood now. "So… let's say that, hypothetically, your body began to age again now that Chaos is gone… it still shouldn't be happening this quickly, right?"

Vincent pondered that for a moment before answering. "Well… theoretically, but…" He sighed. "Cloud, there is one thing that all of you don't know, because I didn't feel that the information was necessary… You know that Hojo shot me in the lab, right?" Cloud nodded.

"Yeah… Hojo shot you, so Lucrecia fused you with Chaos to keep you from dying, right?"

But Vincent shook his head. Cloud was puzzled. "No…? Then what…?"

Vincent closed his eyes briefly; that memory in particular was painful. "The truth is, I died that day, Cloud. Hojo killed me. Lucrecia tried to keep my body from decomposing, but the mako wasn't enough. So she tried to fuse my soul with Chaos in an attempt to revive me. To keep me from rotting away…"

Cloud's mouth opened and closed several times before he could find his voice. "You… you mean… died, huh?" He shook his head in wonderment.

Vincent brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. "So… were I in your situation, Cloud, and the enhancements removed, then, yes, my body should just begin functioning normally again. But I'm not," he said, leaning forward to rest his forehead in his palm. "I'm afraid… that my body has begun breaking down. Without Chaos to maintain it, the mako isn't enough to keep my body from tearing itself up," he whispered.

Cloud was bewildered. He hadn't expected Vincent's situation to be QUITE this dire. This was worse than the Geostigma…

"Vincent… what exactly did Hojo do to you to make you so screwed up inside?"

Vincent gave a dry chuckle. "You know the claw wasn't the ONLY thing he changed. Look," and at that he began to slowly undo the buckles of the crimson cape. Cloud finally grabbed a chair and pulled it next to the bed. Vincent undid the last buckle, and the cape slid off of his shoulders to lay pooled around him like blood. Cloud was curious, but confused. What was Vincent showing him? He didn't see anything unusual about the black outfit Vincent wore beneath the cape. But when Vincent began to undo the line of buckles on the black top, Cloud understood.

"Uh… Vincent…?"

But Vincent just smiled that little twisted half-smile and motioned for Cloud to wait. "You'll see."

Cloud sat patiently and with growing unease as the deathly pale skin of Vincent's torso was exposed inch by inch. He was painfully thin, collarbone and ribs standing out harshly in the room's dim lighting. For the first time, Cloud realized that the sickly pale color of Vincent's skin wasn't due to an inherent lack of pigmentation. No… Vincent had the complexion of a dead man. Cloud shivered.

Vincent gently reached out to touch Cloud's arm, bringing his attention back to what Vincent was trying to show him. "You see here?" He touched a small, Y-shaped scar on his chest.

Cloud was confused. "Hojo's doing…?"

Vincent nodded. "That's the scar… from the autopsy."

Cloud couldn't suppress his shudder. "Vince… that's… horrible." Thank Shiva the scientist was dead… both physically AND spiritually. He brought his attention back to the gunman. "What about these…?" Cloud reached out to touch a line of scars on Vincent's abdomen, but the raven-haired man grabbed his wrist and gently drew it away from himself. Cloud flushed and pulled his hand away to rest firmly in his lap. Vincent gave him a silent "it's fine" before answering.

"Cloud… haven't you ever wondered why I never join the group for meals? Have you ever seen me eat once in all the years you've known me?"

Cloud was now completely mystified. What on Gaia was Vincent getting at? "I always thought you ate in your room because you didn't like the noise… wait… no… don't tell me Barret was RIGHT??? You're not… a…"

Vincent scowled in consternation. "I am NOT a vampire, Cloud."

Cloud sagged in relief. He hadn't thought so, but with Vincent, you never know… Cloud almost laughed, then sobered as he realized what Vincent was hinting at. "So… DO you eat?"

Vincent gave a wistful smile. "Not in thirty-five years. Hojo reconstructed nearly all of my internal organs, and he removed some altogether," he whispered. "Anything that wasn't necessary was… removed," he finished quietly.

Cloud looked poleaxed. "Not… NECESSARY??? That bastard… But the digestive tract is necessary!!!" Cloud grew even more confused when Vincent shook his head.

"Actually, Cloud… it isn't. There are, believe it or not, quite a few people who are missing their intestines, due either to injury or accident."(A/N- see the note at the bottom- I'll explain it all there.) Cloud shook his head in disbelief. This was crazy. Hojo was a lunatic.

"So… what do you do instead? Your body needs energy, doesn't it?" Vincent didn't answer; instead, he pulled a small syringe out of a case in his back pocket. He handed it wordlessly to Cloud, along with another bag full of… something… that he drew out of another hidden pocket. Silently, Cloud read the instructions scribbled on the bag. It was a mixture of the essential elements and proteins that the body needed to function…

"So… you have to shoot yourself up with this stuff every day? Shiva, Vincent! I'm sorry… I had no idea… and I never bothered to ask…" Cloud groaned at his insensitivity.

Vincent just chuckled. "It's fine. I wouldn't have told you the truth, anyway," and at this Cloud gave a wry grin, which Vincent returned in the form of that strange half-smile. "Who needs THAT little tidbit to be thinking about when the fate of the planet is at stake on your sanity? I never minded."

Cloud was almost afraid to ask, but his curiosity was eating away at him. "So… what else did Hojo do to you? Or do I want to know?"

Again, Vincent gave that dry chuckle before deciding to dignify the question with an answer. "Well… In order to accommodate for the transformations, Hojo actually changed my body structure entirely," he said with disgust. "He changed the very way my bones hinge. Which involved the breaking or dislocating of almost every bone in my body," he added, for a little… shock factor. Cloud winced in sympathy. That sounded extremely NOT fun.

Vincent stood up and turned around, presenting Cloud with his back. Cloud recoiled in horror with a small gasp. Vincent's spine stood out so sharply, it looked like it was about to pierce through the skin. On his shoulder blades were two angry red identical scars. They looked like they had barely healed…

Vincent spoke up quietly. "They never really heal, even when Chaos was still inside me. That's where the wings burst from." Cloud also noticed that his back was laced with scars that didn't look surgical at all. Vincent's back was covered with what looked like claw marks around his shoulders and the sides of his upper back.

"What are these from?" Cloud touched a set of marks gently. "They don't look surgical…"

"They're not," Vincent's tone was guarded.

Cloud was confused, then angry. "So Hojo did that to you? That bastard…." But Vincent shook his head again.

"No… They were… self-inflicted. Before I managed to get control of Chaos…" Cloud doubted that Vincent was giving him the entire truth; he knew how deep self-loathing could go… but he let the subject drop.

Vincent sighed and turned to face Cloud again, pulling the black long-sleeved top back on and buttoning it up briskly. He sat back down on the bed.

"Were I… a normal human being, the trauma caused by the operation should have killed me, but Chaos caused my body to heal far more rapidly than would have normally been possible. Not only that…" he muttered, "but Chaos was what helped hold my body together. Without Him… I'm afraid my body has begun to deteriorate rapidly," he looked up, giving Cloud the bleakest look he'd ever seen from ANYONE, period, let alone the stoic gunman. "I'm aging, I have injuries that won't heal… my body is beginning to reject the alterations Hojo made to it, Cloud," he whispered, letting his despair show in his voice for the first time. "I don't know how much time I have, but it can't be much…"

Cloud grabbed Vincent's shoulders as he bent down to bring them face-to-face.

"Don't you DARE give up, Vincent! We'll find some way to fix you!"

But Vincent just looked away. "I don't think you can… But I'm… grateful… that you want to try. That you think I'm worth it," whispered.

Cloud wanted to scream. "Stop thinking like that, Vincent! Damn right, you're worth it! I told you, you're my friend! Now… how much time do you think we have?"

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. "With the speed at which it's progressing? I honestly don't know. A week or so at absolute worst… a month or two at best."

Cloud blinked away the wetness in his eyes. Vincent did NOT deserve this. And Cloud was going to do everything in his power to ensure that the worst did NOT happen. They'd all spent the past five years convincing Vincent that he DID deserve to live. He wasn't going to let the gunman die now!

"I don't care what it takes, but we're gonna fix you, Vincent. I'm not going to let you die!"

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A/N: about the intestines thing:

I was traumatized as a kid when I heard about this. Ever since, I've had a phobia of swimming pool drains. There are actually quite a few children that this has happened to. Kids get dared all the time to do stupid stuff, including touching or sitting on the big drains/filters in swimming pools. What most people don't realize is that those drains are incredibly powerful; that's why they're in the deep end where people won't swim too close by accident. I saw once that it took FIVE GROWN MEN to pull a TENNIS BALL out of a drain. A good number of people have drowned, but the thing that freaked me out was the ones who didn't. Kids have had all their intestines and the like pulled out of them by sitting on the pool drains. They don't die, though. But they can't eat. Instead, they have to get nutrients injected directly into their bloodstream every day, like diabetics need insulin. It's scary, but it's true and it is entirely possible to live without your intestines. TT.

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End chapter three. R&R if you want more!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to all of my reviewers!!! I love you all!

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Disclaimer: Me no own. I only own the idea for this story. Everything else belongs to Squenix.

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Running out of Time: chapter four.

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Wordlessly, Vincent rose to his feet, grabbing the red cape and pulling it back onto his shoulders before buckling it up. Cloud just looked on, feeling helpless and downright crappy.

"Vincent… I think the others should know."

Vincent's reaction was instantaneous and violent.

He whirled around. "Absolutely not!" He hissed vehemently. "Cloud, I already told you; they don't know about it, and I plan to keep it that way!"

Cloud was taken aback. "But…!"

Vincent shook his head before whispering viciously, "If you tell them, I swear on all things holy that I am going to leave and you are never going to find me! **I **will tell them, at MY discretion, and ONLY if we require their assistance. I do NOT want to give them cause for alarm!"

Cloud mulled this over for a moment before an idea came to him. "What about Reeve? He has connections. He can probably find either the information you need or a means of fixing you…" Cloud suggested hesitantly, "Not to mention that he has a LOT of money. You're his friend too, Vincent, and he wouldn't hesitate in doing everything in his power to help you. And I would trust his discretion. He's not gonna blab."

Vincent pondered the idea for a moment. "…All right. I'll leave that up to you, Cloud. I have some errands to run."

Cloud was confused. "…Errands?"

Vincent paced over to the table by the door, grabbing his gun holster and strapping it on. "What? You expect me to survive without a decent supply of potions? I'll be needing to take them every day, and frequently, if you expect me to make it past the week," he explained. "I also have a mastered Cure materia, but not with me; it's still at the mansion from the time I used to stay there. So I'll be getting that, the potions, and some ethers. If things start going downhill fast, I can always cast Regen on myself. But I'll need a lot of ethers if I'm going to keep that up for any length of time."

Cloud whistled appreciatively. "You've really thought this out… wanna borrow Ketta?"

Vincent raised his eyebrows. "Your prized gold Chocobo?"

Cloud nodded. "Yeah. Now that I have Fenrir, I don't use her to make deliveries, so she doesn't get as much exercise as I'd like," Cloud explained. "Check in the Chocobo stable out back—we just built it recently so I wouldn't have to go all the way to the farm to get her, and she doesn't have to stay on the Shera. Nibelheim is kinda far if you plan on walking, Vincent."

Vincent gave Cloud a real, rare smile in thanks. When he moved towards the door, Cloud got worried. "Vincent, you aren't leaving for Nibelheim today, are you? You've been gone all this time; I was hoping you'd stay a little longer."

Vincent shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving yet. I still need potions, and I don't want to use up your supply. For now, I'm only going to go buy enough to get me through today and tomorrow," he reassured the blonde swordsman. "Besides, if I bought any more than that, the others would get suspicious, don't you think?"

Cloud had to agree with Vincent on that. "In that case, I'm going with you. What if you collapse in the street? …I'm serious!" He exclaimed as Vincent gave him a withering glare.

But Vincent finally gave in. "Fine," he snapped. Cloud followed Vincent out of the room and down the stairs, not even pausing as he shouted out for the room to hear that they were going to get potions; Cloud's supply was running pretty low. Tifa waved them out. Yuffie was grinning to herself. Potions, indeed. Just what had they been doing upstairs? They'd been up there for quite a while. But the poor little fangirl was sadly mistaken.

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As it turned out, it was probably a very good thing that Cloud was accompanying Vincent; Vincent was hardly ever in Edge, so he had no idea where the best place to find a potion would be. Cloud, on the other hand, could navigate the city in his sleep. Which he had nearly done on more than one occasion when he was particularly exhausted and wanted to get to Aerith's church. The good thing was, Cloud knew exactly where they should go. The bad thing was, it wasn't particularly close to the 7th Heaven Bar, but there wasn't a good street route to get there. So, they had to walk.

Cloud watched Vincent with growing concern as the man had begun to shiver as soon as they'd set foot outside the front door. "Vincent… you okay?"

Vincent scowled. "It's just cold out here, that's all." But when Cloud glanced at him sharply, Vincent had to wonder. "…Isn't it?"

Cloud turned his troubled eyes to the ground. "Vince… it's in the high 70s outside. The bar is hot right now because the air conditioning is broken. Or didn't you notice all the ceiling fans running at full blast?"

Vincent's eyes widened in surprise, then understanding. "So… my body has already deteriorated to the point that I can no longer regulate my internal temperature…" He whispered.

Cloud wanted to cry. It was so hard to see Vincent like this. Vincent was easily one of the strongest among them, physically. Next to himself, of course. There was nothing quite like the strength of a SOLDIER. Even though he'd never actually made the rank, he'd received all of the enhancements and then some. Now, Vincent… He'd seen the dark haired gunman do some amazing things. But now… It seemed like it was all Vincent could do to walk steadily.

They reached the apothecary about twenty minutes later. Fortunately, Vincent hadn't shown any more signs that his condition had worsened. Quickly, they took as many potions as they could fit in a bag and Vincent handed the man a pile of gil. Before the man could question it, Vincent told him to keep the change. He needed to get back to the bar; he was so fatigued that he wasn't sure if he could make it back without alerting the others to his condition. But if they left immediately, he should be able to make it before he grew too tired to walk properly.

Cloud didn't question his actions; he understood that Vincent was in no mood to dawdle. They were almost back to the bar when Vincent was seized by a second coughing fit. Eyes watering, he didn't seem to be able to get enough air. It felt like his lungs were trying to claw their way out through his esophagus. Cloud caught him just before he could collapse, bracing the other man by the shoulders as he hacked.

"Vincent! Vincent!! Are you all right!?" His voice had risen half an octave in alarm. The gunman didn't even nod his head in answer; he was powerless to control the spasms tearing through him. To Cloud, it felt like an eternity before Vincent finally stopped coughing. The gunman glanced up at Cloud to mutter a barely audible "I'm fine." But his lips had a blue tinge to them.

"Vincent… are you sure? You're gray, and your lips… they're blue…" Cloud was unsure whether it would be wise for them to move just yet.

"Gray is how I feel. Let's just… get to the bar."

But, to Cloud's horror, he saw that blue wasn't the only color on Vincent's lips. No… At the corner of the gunman's mouth was a tiny drop of red. Vincent noticed Cloud's staring and reached up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced at the resulting red smear on his glove and grunted, wiping it off onto the crimson cape. Cloud just shook his head, giving the gunman a worried glance before slinging the flesh arm around his shoulder.

"Come on… the sooner you can sit down, the better."

Vincent winced as another shudder rippled through him. "Sorry. You were right, after all."

Cloud glanced over at the gunman in confusion. "I generally am… but about what in particular?"

Vincent smirked. "Collapsing in the street."

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Not a cliffie, for once, but this fic in general is one massive cliffhanger.

Sorry about Yuffie's Vin/Cloud fangirl moment. Normally, I write yaoi, but I thought it'd be funny to make this into a NON yaoi fic and have at least one character suspect something going on when it's NOT.

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End of Chapter Four. R&R.


	5. Chapter 5

XD, I came up with a word game for a bus trip where you make a sentence by everyone saying one word at a time. However, each word must start with the next letter of the alphabet, I.e., a big chicken digs earthworms from grassy hills… and you have to start with 'A' and go all the way to 'Z.' I decided to come up with a FFVII one on my own. Here is the result.

Aerith beats Cloud daily, eliciting frightened gasps held in Jenova's kitchen; listening, many nervous observers patiently quell ridiculous suspicions, telling understatements via worried xenophobes yammering zealously.

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To all of my reviewers: Thank you!!!!! I love you all. BTW, if you don't want Vincent to die in the end, you'd better speak up. I can yet be swayed to give this a happy ending!!!

Disclaimer: all your FFVII are belong to us. Just kidding. Squenix owns it. I just own this plot bunny.

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Vincent managed to walk through the door of the bar under his own power and maintain a dignified pace all the way to their table in the far corner. But, as soon as he sat down, he seemed to sag like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Cloud quickly uncorked a potion and passed it to Vincent. After swallowing it, Vincent straightened and seemed to regain some strength. Cloud sat down across from him and gazed at him worriedly. "Better?"

Vincent sighed. "Not really. All it did was remove the fatigue and knit up some of the torn tissue in my lungs," he muttered. "Cloud, using potions extensively like this is like running for several days straight on nothing but caffeine- it works for a while, but eventually you crash. I won't be able to keep it up indefinitely," he warned.

Cloud nodded. "I know, but… Vincent… what else can we do? I'm going to talk to Cait Sith tonight; maybe Reeve can come up with something. You should stay here; I can sleep in the church. I'll tell Tifa that you're exhausted from the journey here," he said, glancing around the room. "Just… don't exert yourself, and stay inside. We can't risk something like hypothermia, and if you don't get active physically, you shouldn't go into any more coughing fits…" He trailed off with a sigh. "I wish there was more I could do right now, but until I talk to Reeve, this is it. There're some extra blankets in the closet in the hall; you should grab those before you go to bed, Vincent. If things are as bad as you think, you need to stay warm." Cloud stood up. "I need a drink… want me to get you anything? CAN you drink?"

Vincent shook his head. "Actually, I can, but I don't think it's a good idea to put alcohol in my system right now. Who knows how my body would react? It's too dangerous to risk it," he stated firmly, and Cloud agreed. "Besides…" Vincent murmured, "If there's nothing we can do… I want to spend my last days sober… fully aware of my surroundings. I don't want to miss a single moment of it," he whispered.

Cloud could feel a pricking in his eyes and rubbed them irritably. He couldn't get overly emotional right now; it would be an obvious tip off to the rest of the group that something was wrong.

Vincent followed Cloud with his eyes as the blonde swordsman walked over to the bar and moved behind the counter, reaching down to pull out a shot glass and a bottle. Vincent read the label once Cloud returned.

"You sure you should be drinking this? Are you going to be all right getting to the church?"

Cloud gave a bitter laugh. "Vincent, my mako enhancements don't let me get drunk off my ass. Usually, the most I can manage is a mild buzz. My body burns off the alcohol faster than my bloodstream can absorb it. It takes some serious effort to get ME intoxicated. But I'm really gonna try today." Vincent shook his head before giving that odd twisted half-smile that seemed to be reserved solely for Cloud. Vincent understood, though. One of Cloud's treasured friends was dying, and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it. If Vincent were in Cloud's place, he'd be trying his damndest to get drunk, too. As it was, he was probably going to be feeling light-headed from all the potions he was downing.

Vincent shuddered as another spasm of pain tore briefly through him. These… attacks… were starting to occur with increasing regularity. He downed another potion. He felt a brief tingling as the magic took effect. Ah. He could feel it concentrating on the ever-present problem that was the metal prosthesis. He returned to watching the blonde swordsman across the table. Cloud looked positively morose, filling the shotglass and downing it in half a second. Finally, Vincent grew tired of the silence. "So… how have you been, Cloud?"

Cloud nearly dropped the glass in surprise. Vincent NEVER initiated a conversation. The man usually avoided any unnecessary talking like the plague. Cloud realized that Vincent was waiting for an answer.

"Oh, I've been all right, I suppose. My life isn't all that interesting. I'm a delivery boy now, remember?" Cloud filled the glass again, but this time he sipped idly at the liquor, scrutinizing Vincent as the gunman chuckled.

Vincent shook his head. "It's funny. I'd always figured that you'd go back to being a mercenary… what made you change your mind after Meteor?"

Cloud tapped a finger on the table as he thought. "You know… I'm not really sure. I suppose I was tired of the fighting. I wanted to make a living out of a vocation that didn't rely on others' suffering, I guess…" Vincent nodded in agreement and approval.

"It's as good a reason as any."

Cloud shrugged and returned his attention to his drink. Vincent's thoughts turned inward. The thought of his most likely imminent death troubled him… he wasn't entirely sure how he felt. Wasn't it what he'd longed for during those dark and haunted nightmares of his thirty year penance? But now he wasn't quite so eager… It was a shame. One of life's little ironies, he supposed. Can't die when you want to, and now that you're dying, you want to live… He chuckled to himself before glancing over idly to watch the animated faces of the other group members, deep in the midst of some conversation.

Huh. He felt suddenly drowsy. Perhaps it was the comfortable heat of the room. Cloud had said that the air conditioner was malfunctioning, but the warmth felt nice; he must be chilled… A bad sign, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He reclined elegantly in the chair and let his eyes drift shut. He snapped them open again as he felt Cloud's hand on his. The swordsman was gazing at him, alarm making the mako eyes shine even brighter.

"Vincent, are you all right?"

Vincent just shrugged eloquently. "I don't know. I'm just tired, that's all." Oddly enough, though, this didn't seem to reassure Cloud at all. He continued to watch the gunman with concern through the rest of the evening, occasionally coaxing a word or two out of the dark haired man. Vincent's drowsiness finally got the better of him, though, and he fell into a dreamless haze of darkness out of which he did not wake until late into the night at Cloud's touch.

There was a definite slur to the blonde's words as he gently shook Vincent's shoulder.

"C'mon, Vince. The others're retiring f'r th'night.

Vince nodded and rose slowly to his feet, then promptly staggered as his body was wracked with pain.

Cloud cursed and reached over to steady the trembling gunman.

"Shit, Vince… You don' look s'good…" Vincent just let out a painful hiss as he pulled out another potion and drank it all down quickly.

Cloud looked extremely reluctant to leave the gunman, but it would arouse suspicion if he walked Vincent up the stairs. Finally, he resigned himself to clasping Vincent's shoulder firmly and telling him, "Don't do anything stupid. Will you be all right through the night?"

Vincent shrugged. "No. But I won't be in any immediate danger. I haven't BEEN all right all day. You should get going; I can make it up the stairs just fine," he murmured with a slight smile; the smile that Cloud had come to cherish in the course of the day. After all, it wouldn't be long before the time came when he might never see it again. He turned to go, feet perfectly steady, much to Vincent's surprise. The bottle Cloud had been nursing earlier was completely empty. Without a word, Vincent turned to go up the stairs.

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End Chapter Five. R&R!!!!!! Especially if you don't want me to kill Vincent!!!!!!!

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	6. Chapter 6

Augh…… So… many… people… telling me not to kill Vincent. But… I haven't changed my mind. Not YET. But now I'm scared that I'm going to get murdered…

To **semeru, Gismo, **and **One Winged Cetra**- your opinions have been duly noted. Glad y'all like the story so far. –hugs-

**Chaxra-san-** Yep. But it's not stamina- that's MAKO. And it wasn't a very BIG bottle… And I am aware that you are just itching for Vinny's untimely death. So am I, dear, so am I. I just have all these people giving me death threats and the like… So I have an idea that works both ways. You'll all find out in the next to last chapter…. Whenever that is. I have absolutely no idea how long I can drag this story out without sacrificing quality. Maybe a few more chapters, maybe a dozen more. I don't know.

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Disclaimer: I'm broke. I own NOTHING. Except my plot bunnies.

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Running out of Time: Chapter Six 

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After Cloud walked out the door, Vincent began the slow and arduous journey up the stairs. He tripped over his boots at one point and began muttering a steady stream of colorful and creative cursing as he climbed up step by painful step. He finally reached the top platform, regretting his ill-considered decision to go out on their little excursion earlier that day. The exertion was taking its toll on his body. More than once, he had to choke back the sharp metallic tang of blood on his way to the upstairs guestroom. He stopped briefly at the hall closet to withdraw the entire stack of spare blankets.

Vincent finally reached the guestroom and laid the blankets on the bed. Moving back into the hall, he made his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face; his skin had begun to burn unpleasantly at some point within the past few hours. With unease, he noted that Cloud had been serious when he'd said that Vincent was paler than usual; there was absolutely no color to his flesh, except, perhaps, an unhealthy grey tinge. One would think he'd never seen the light of day. But then Vincent picked up some new changes; his eyes were dull, the once brilliant crimson dimmed to a dark burgundy that seemed almost… lifeless. Ugh. His lips were dry and cracked, still touched with a faint hint of blue. His skin almost seemed to have a bloodless, waxy texture to it. His hair was dull, and he could see that several more of his roots had gone silver. Sweat shone in a thin sheen on his skin. He looked downright… dilapidated. His claw was aching again, too. With a sigh, he returned to the room.

After much debate, Vincent decided to remove the prosthetic limb. It was doing more harm than good, and the skin around the metal retainer ring was red and irritated; the bloody wound from earlier was still oozing slightly. He snapped the joint up and back. After the mechanism released with a metallic click, he set it on the bedside table. It would hurt like a mother when he tried to put it back on, but he'd rather not put the extra strain on his body tonight. After steeling himself, he poured a potion directly on the inflamed skin. It hurt like hell, but the magic acted quickly and far more effectively this way. Finally satisfied that it would not bother him again that night, Vincent began undoing the buckles on his cape one-handed; a skill he had perfected over the years. He let it fall, too weary to hang it up properly. After removing his boots, he decided that it would be better not to undress further. With his internal thermostat screwed up, it would be wise to retain as much body heat as possible. He turned down the bed before piling the blankets on top of it. Lying down, he gazed at the ceiling until his earlier weariness overtook him and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

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He woke the next morning to a gentle touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, immediately fully alert. But the person who greeted him was not Cloud, as he had been expecting almost hopefully. Cait Sith bounced excitedly off of the bed and down to the floor beside him as Vincent rolled fluidly off the mattress and onto his feet. Cait handed him the red cape; the robot had also moved his boots at some point so that they now rested beside the bed, neatly placed so that they were ready to slip on.

Cait waited until Vincent's wardrobe adjustments were complete before speaking up. "Cloud told me everything last night, Vincent. I'm working on the problem right now. I must say, this is rather abrupt. Vincent, I'm going to try my hardest to help you, but I'm not sure that there's much I can do with so little time to work with," Reeve explained via Cait. The robot drooped dejectedly. "I'm sorry I can't be more help to ya, Vincent! But I think you should talk to Tifa. She'll understand. After all, she and Cloud dealt with Geostigma for a while; they both have experience battling incurable diseases! I know this isn't a disease, but surely they can help!"

Vincent grunted noncommittally at the suggestion. He wasn't keen on the idea of burdening anyone else with his problems. But Cait wasn't done.

"Vincent, Cloud told me you were planning on going to Nibelheim to get the Cure materia, but I have one that you can borrow. AND… It's mastered, so there's no need for you to do any unnecessary traveling!" The robot grinned smugly. "Ethers aren't that expensive, so I don't mind going and getting some for you!"

Vincent mumbled his thanks and the robot darted out of the room. Vincent sat back down on the bed with a pained grimace. He didn't feel particularly worse… but he didn't feel any better, either. The scars on his shoulders were beginning to ache dully, a sure sign that they, too would soon become yet another ailment that would need tending to. He sighed. They were so awkward to deal with. He had trouble reaching them properly. He took out another potion and drank it. It helped, but only a little. Vincent was getting the feeling that there weren't enough potions in the WORLD to fix HIS screwed up body.

Eyeing the metal claw with distaste, Vincent procrastinated about reattaching it by awkwardly making up the bed. It was difficult to do with only one hand, and it served as a good distraction. That was how Cloud found him as he walked in through the guestroom door.

Glancing up, Vincent smirked as Cloud sighed in relief. "What… Were you worried I wasn't going to be here when you came back?"

Cloud scratched the back of his head with a sheepish shrug. "Well… truth be told, I spent half the night worrying that I was gonna come back and find you'd tripped down the stairs and broken your neck… or something," Cloud admitted, grinning apologetically. "I can't help it. I'm scared to death for you, Vincent."

Vincent slowly straightened and turned to meet Cloud's eyes; the blonde's face was a study of mixed emotions, with an aching helplessness, fear, and grief predominating. The swordsman's eyes were overly bright, and from more than just mako. Cloud's voice broke on the next words.

"I don't want to lose you, Vincent. I…" he faltered, fixing his gaze on the floor. "I know… back when we were fighting Sephiroth… we went through every day knowing that one or all of us could die at any moment… but that's over, now." He raised his head to look Vincent desperately in the eyes. "And I've grown used to that fact. Maybe back then it was fine, because I'd resign myself to the knowledge that there was nothing I could DO about it, but not any more. I can't deal with it! Maybe I'm just weak…" he whispered, "but I can't handle the thought any more of any one of my friends getting hurt for whatever reason. It's not an occupational hazard any more. There's no more fighting, so nobody should have to die!"

Cloud's eyes shone fiercely as he gripped Vincent's shoulders like a lifeline. "Vincent, I don't know if I could handle it if you or Tifa or Barret or Cid or even Yuffie or ANYONE I cared about disappeared out of my life!" His voice cracked on the last word and he seemed to crumple, letting his despair show at last. With utter dejection, he drew away from Vincent, wrapping his arms around himself. "I don't want to be alone. Not anymore. You guys are all I've got," he whispered brokenly.

Vincent remained silent, not quite sure what to say to that. Finally, he reached forward to lay his hand awkwardly on Cloud's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Even if Vincent wasn't necessarily opposed to the thought of finally being able to rest… it was more important to him that he didn't hurt his friends. Even if it meant living longer than he wanted to with the pain of his twisted body, he didn't want to give his friends cause to grieve. He'd hurt enough people already. But this was beyond his control; Vincent didn't think he would be able to prevent this particular tragedy.

Cloud reached up briefly to touch the hand on his shoulder, then shook himself and straightened as though the exchange had never happened. That was when he noticed that the metal claw was missing from Vincent's arm. Looking around in confusion, he spotted it lying on the table. "Vincent? What happened?" He gestured to the absent forearm.

Vincent shrugged. "The wound was becoming irritated, so I removed it to reduce the strain on my body. Besides," he murmured, "Locomotion in the hand was becoming painful enough that it might as well be useless. So I removed it. Cait Sith was in here earlier," he said, blatantly changing the subject.

Cloud nodded. "Yeah, I passed him in the hall. I know, I told him to come up and check on you if I wasn't here by breakfast. How do you feel?" He asked with concern.

Vincent smiled THAT smile again. "Absolutely _terrible_. You were expecting to hear anything different? But not any worse." Cloud gave a wry grin.

Stretching with a groan, the swordsman turned to gaze out the small window. "Reeve told me via Cait that there might be something in Junon…" he began quietly, "though Hojo didn't spend much time there while he worked on the Chaos project. However, it was one of ShinRa's major military HQs, so who knows what we might find there? He's already sent people to start searching. YOU shouldn't be doing any traveling, Vincent," he told the gunman firmly. Vincent grunted noncommittally. "I mean it, Vincent!"

Vincent scowled but shrugged his compliance. "Thanks."

Cloud just shrugged it off. "It's nothing. I told you, we're going to do everything we can for you."

Vincent closed his eyes, grateful. "Cait said that I should talk to Tifa. Because she dealt with you and the kids when you had the Geostigma."

Cloud hummed thoughtfully. "Actually, I agree. Tifa is cool-headed. She, myself, Reeve, and perhaps Nanaki and Shelke are the only ones I would trust not to overreact, though. Even **I **can see that it'd be a bad idea to let… oh, somebody like Yuffie find out until we know more about your condition." Vincent gave a dry chuckle. The hyperactive child would undoubtedly go into hysterics if she got wind of this.

Cloud nodded as if coming to some internal decision. "I'm going to get Tifa. Wait here," he muttered before striding out of the room. Vincent sat back down on the edge of the bed as though not quite sure what to do with himself. He decided to gaze idly out of the window until Cloud's return. He spent the time firmly imprinting the image in his mind. Every little detail he'd never bothered to take in before, because he'd never had the time. The clouds were _so_ and the trees were _so_ and the sky was just _this _shade of blue. The sunlight felt warm on his face. He could see dozens of people walking to and fro, going about their lives cheerfully oblivious. He turned around, startled, as Cloud walked back into the room with Tifa trailing behind.

Reluctantly, Vincent turned away from the window to face them. Tifa gazed at him with concern for a moment before speaking.

"Cloud says you're sick, Vincent… but he didn't explain. He said he didn't have the right. So will you tell me yourself?"

Vincent looked away. "I'm not sure where to start, but… I guess I first noticed that something was wrong several days ago…"

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End chapter six! Sorry, but I didn't feel like writing Vincent's account of things all over again, and I figured you readers wouldn't appreciate having to read it twice, either. So I'll cut it off here, for now. R&R! Especially if you don't want me to kill Vincent. Or if you DO. I haven't decided how it's going to end, but I think it will depend largely on you reviewers!!!


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to all who reviewed! As it stands, Vincent's fate is still undecided. But I have taken note that I am now receiving death threats on a daily basis. Your opinions have all been taken note of. I'm now down from 80/20 killing him to just 60/40. Mostly I'm just lazy because it means more work for me to figure out how to NOT kill him…

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Disclaimer: FFVII is not mine. It belongs to Squenix. I do, however, claim rights to this little plot bunny of mine.

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Running out of Time: Chapter Seven.

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Tifa was letting the tears flow freely down her face by the time Vincent was done with his story. She waited until he was done buckling up his black, long-sleeved top before speaking.

"Oh, Vincent… I know you don't want pity, but… I'm so sorry," Tifa murmured. "I never would have imagined… You don't deserve this. This… this is cruel," she whispered. Vincent grunted, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know how much help I'll be," she sighed, "But I'll do my best. I just hope it's good enough."

Vincent shrugged. "Thank you," he muttered. "I appreciate your concern on my behalf."

Tifa sighed in exasperation. "Stop it, Vincent! Just stop it! Of COURSE I'm concerned! Did you think I wouldn't care?" She shook her head in disgust. Vincent's constant self-depreciation was beginning to get on her nerves.

"Let it go, Tifa," Cloud reprimanded softly from the corner. "Vincent is Vincent. That's not going to change any time soon."

Tifa smiled an apology. "Sorry… I guess… I'm a little upset. Oh, Vincent, why didn't you say anything? And don't you dare say it's because you don't want to burden us with your problems!" She told him sternly.

Vincent smirked. "Then I guess I won't say anything."

Tifa growled in frustration. "Vincent, it's NOT a burden. It's no trouble at all… really! That's what friends are FOR! They help each other!" The tears were flowing again, unchecked, as Tifa's emotions got the better of her. She stumbled forward to embrace the startled gunman carefully.

"Don't leave us," she whispered. "It hurts too much. We all care about you, whether you want to believe it or not. Please, Vincent. Promise me you'll try. Try to get better."

He grunted, awkwardly wrapping his arm around the brunette as she clutched him tightly. "All right. You have my word. I will… try," Vincent spoke haltingly and with slight embarrassment. "Ah… Tifa?"

Cloud chuckled from his corner as Tifa looked up in teary confusion.

"You're hugging me."

Tifa nodded. "Uh-huh… oh… Oh! Um… um… I'm sorry!" She quickly released him and scrambled backwards as though she'd been burned. Vincent's mouth quirked in a failed attempt to suppress his amusement. "It's fine, Tifa."

The room was filled with uncomfortable silence. Finally, Tifa spoke up.

"I hate to leave you, but I need to go get the bar ready to open up…"

Vincent nodded. "Go. I'll be fine. …Relatively speaking." Tifa chuckled through her tears and turned to leave, giving Cloud a significant glance before walking out and shutting the door behind her. The silent exchange did not go unnoticed. Vincent didn't miss much. "What was that about?"

Cloud sighed. "Well, basically Tifa's gonna kill me if I don't keep an eye on you 24/7. That's just how she is… She'd do it herself, but she has customers to deal with," he explained. Vincent "hmph"ed. It made sense, he supposed. He shuddered as another wave of pain rippled through his body. His shoulders were beginning to hurt dreadfully. He dug out another potion and choked it down. He had never liked the way they tasted. But his actions had alerted Cloud to his pain.

"What is it this time?" The blonde inquired wearily. He had been hoping that no new problems would develop today.

Vincent gave a pained grimace. "The wing scars on my shoulders," he said quietly before hissing in pain and shutting his eyes tightly. "The potion isn't working. Cloud, help me get this off!" Vincent began fumbling with the silver buckles on the cape.

Cloud wasn't sure what had caused the sudden frantic tone in Vincent's voice, but he hastily complied. Pulling it off the gunman's shoulders, he still didn't see what the problem was. But Vincent wasn't done. He cursed and pulled his glove off with his teeth.

"The shirt, too. Hurry!"

Cloud was baffled by Vincent's sudden strange behavior, but he began working on the buckles at the collar while Vincent worked at the ones at the bottom. When the last of the buckles was undone, Vincent tried to rip the shirt off, but it was clinging to his back in such a way that made the action impossible to complete one-armed. Cloud sighed and pulled it off for him, noting that the heavy fabric was damp on the upper back. When he saw the reason why, he froze. Vincent uttered a guttural curse, which Cloud echoed, followed by a hiss of sympathy.

The scars on Vincent's back had reopened, and there was a large smear of dark crimson on the gunman's prominent shoulder blades. At the removal of the shirt, fresh blood had welled up to the surface and was trickling slowly down Vincent's mutilated back. Vincent finally growled in frustration.

"How bad does it look, Cloud? I can't see it from here." Cloud debated before answering, but finally decided that Vincent wouldn't be very forgiving if he withheld any details, no matter how upsetting. "It's… It doesn't look good, Vince. The scars reopened and they're bleeding pretty bad. Can you make it to the bathroom in the hall? We keep the first aid kit in there. If potions aren't going to work on this, we need to treat it the old-fashioned way." Vincent nodded stiffly, and without another word, Cloud lifted him to his feet and slung the gunman's arm around his shoulder.

Glancing briefly down the hallway before stepping out, Cloud noted that the coast was clear. Quickly, they all but ran to the bathroom. Fortunately, it was a larger room than most bathrooms. It was one of the few luxuries Cloud and Tifa had allowed themselves when deciding on they layout of their… home, he supposed, was the word. He just hated being cramped in small places. As soon as Cloud could slam the door shut, Vincent pulled away and staggered over to sit on the edge of the tub, pushing the shower curtain roughly to the side. He couldn't suppress his agonized groan as the motion pulled at the open wounds. He finally decided that it would be best if he didn't move at all.

Wordlessly, Cloud opened the cabinet above the vanity and pulled out a large box, which he promptly opened. But he muttered to himself as though changing his mind, and moved to the towel rack instead. Digging through the pile of washcloths, he found a black one and moved over to stand before Vincent. He reached for the shower knob and turned it on, waiting until the water was comfortably hot. He wetted the cloth and began to mop up the crimson mess on Vincent's otherwise colorless back. After the cloth was saturated, he rinsed it and began the process over again. At first, Vincent glanced with interest at the red stream flowing down the drain, but he then decided that he'd really rather NOT know just how much blood was coming off of the wounds. He let his head sink down until his forehead rested in his ungloved hand. How utterly embarrassing. He'd almost rather deal with the pain than have Cloud baby him like this… but the blonde was adamant. Vincent was to stay put and do nothing. And, he hated to admit it, but he really did need the blonde's help. It was nigh impossible for him to tend to his shoulders adequately on his own, and Cloud seemed eager to help. Vincent sighed. He might as well get used to it.

Cloud tried not to let his alarm show as he carefully tried to wash all the blood off of Vincent's mutilated shoulders, but there was just so _much_. Too much for Cloud's liking. He felt so helpless, unable to do anything but watch as the gunman slowly fell apart. Seeing the once invincible sharpshooter he had known for years reduced to such a state was… heartbreaking.

When the water Cloud wrung out of the cloth was finally beginning to run clear, Cloud reached up to lift the first aid kit from the vanity and set it on the toilet lid. He knelt in front of Vincent briefly to look him in the eyes. Hesitantly, covered the gunman's bloodless fingers with his own hand.

"You doing okay?"

Wordlessly, Vincent shut his eyes and shook his head stiffly, clenching his hand into a tight fist. He was afraid that if he spoke now, he wouldn't be able to suppress the agonized scream that had been trying to tear its way out of his throat for the past ten minutes or so.

Cloud lowered his gaze, anguish washing through him. He noted with distress that Vincent was trembling violently. He swallowed down the words he'd been about to say, only to find that his throat had closed tightly at the sick ache in his heart. This was NOT fair. Not fair to Vincent, and not fair to himself or the rest of his friends. Wordlessly, Cloud grabbed another black towel to pat the wounds dry.

With shaking hands, Cloud began to spread the antiseptic cream across the ragged flesh of Vincent's back. It had a painkiller in it and a potion base, so it should have eased the gunman's pain. But, judging by Vincent's white-lipped grimace, it wasn't. Cloud just bit his lip and kept working. Next, he reached for the gauze pads, and, after placing one over each raw wound, he gently covered them with the large butterfly bandages to hold the pads in place. Lastly, he pulled out the roll of bandages and silently began wrapping them around Vincent's emaciated torso. All the while, Vincent never uttered a sound. When Cloud was finished, he secured the end of the bandages with a metal clip and stepped back to survey his handiwork. All in all, it wasn't too shabby of a job. It should help hold Vincent together for a little while longer.

Cloud walked over to the sink to rinse his hands off, but Vincent didn't move an inch. Worried, Cloud glanced over at the dark haired gunman.

"Vince… are you gonna be all right? No, that's a stupid question… can you walk? Is the pain any better?"

Vincent swallowed, giving a strained affirmative. "But… the pain… is no better," he breathed, making no move to stand. Cloud bit his lip before finally shaking his head.

"I'll go get some potions and the rest of your clothes, then I'm taking you to the church. I'll tell Tifa," Cloud added, troubled. "I know you don't want the others to suspect anything, but it's gonna be pretty damn impossible to hide as long as you're staying here." And without another word, the blonde opened the door and sprinted out. Vincent just sat, unmoving on the edge of the tub, trying not to scream.

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End chapter seven!!!!! You all do realize that by reviewing, you ensure that I will continue to update frequently? So, what are you waiting for? Have at it!!! And unless I get a LOT of reviewers to beg me prettily, this story is going to have a tragic end, and Vincent doesn't stand a chance. Speak up if you want him to live! I'm still flexible. I've been itching to write SOMETHING with a happy ending!


	8. Chapter 8

Jeez. Overwhelming, you guys! Okay, I'm now 50/50 on the whole "to save or not to save" deal! I dun wanna die! Or have Hojo resurrected to torture me!!! I've gotten TWO of THOSE threats… TT. But I like a good tragedy…

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Disclaimer: FFVII ain't mine, y'hear? I only claim rights to MY plot bunnies.

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Running out of Time: Chapter Eight.

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Vincent didn't even look up as Cloud returned with his crimson cape and black shirt. When Vincent made no move to take the garments from him, Cloud just sighed and threw them over his shoulder. He was holding the metal claw in one hand. With the other, he gently hoisted Vincent and slung the gunman's arm around his other shoulder. Carefully, he led the gunman down the stairs. Tifa glanced up briefly to give Cloud a worried frown as she wiped a glass with a cloth. "Be careful," she mouthed. Cloud nodded and went out the door. He nearly ran into Cait Sith, as the toysaurus was just about to enter the bar.

"Cloud! And Vincent? Where are ya goin'?"

Cloud quickly explained the negative turn of events; Cait agreed that moving Vincent was necessary. The robot handed the materia to Vincent, and a bag of ethers which ended up looped over Cloud's free arm.

"…Thanks," Vincent whispered quietly. Cait nodded and darted in to the bar. They made their way quickly to the Fenrir. Cloud set the claw in the heavy cloth bag before helping Vincent slip the shirt and cape back on. Once they were buckled back up securely, Vincent swung his other leg over to sit on the bike. Cloud vaulted into the seat in front of Vincent, and the gunman wrapped his single arm tightly around the swordsman's waist.

Cloud glanced briefly at the gunman over his shoulder. "You're not gonna fall off, are you?"

Vincent smirked. "No. Just because one of my hands is missing doesn't mean the other one doesn't function properly. I can hold on just fine." 

Cloud nodded and revved up the engine. Tifa looked up from her spot behind the counter, watching with worried eyes as they sped away to the church.

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Despite Vincent's boast, by the time the church was in sight, the gunman had sagged against Cloud and his hand was slipping so badly that Cloud had to slow down so that Vincent wouldn't fall. Cloud finally slowed to a stop in front of the doors and let the engine idle for a moment.

"Sorry," Vincent mumbled. "Hand is numb." Cloud shook his head and dismounted before turning the engine off and setting the kickstand. He reached up to help Vincent down, but ended up catching him instead as the gunman slid off sideways and fell half into Cloud's arms. Cloud shook his head. Dignity be damned, he was going to CARRY Vincent inside. He didn't trust the gunman to walk. Grabbing the cloth bag of items, he slipped an arm through the handles before picking the gunman up. Cloud grunted in surprise; Vincent weighed next to nothing. True, his own mako enhancements had given him tremendous strength, but Cloud estimated that Vincent could only weigh half what a grown man should, at MOST.

Once inside, Cloud sat Vincent up carefully on an unbroken pew. He would have laid the gunman down, but the wounds on his back made that out of the question. Vincent's eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly. Cloud placed a potion in his hand and the gunman uncorked it with his teeth and drank it. After a few seconds, Vincent relaxed with a sigh and opened his eyes. Taking note of his surroundings, he finally met Cloud's gaze and muttered a quiet thanks before closing his eyes again.

"Cloud…" Vincent whispered. The blonde walked over and sat next to the gunman on the pew. "Cloud… I think… we should plan for the worst-case scenario. This is progressing much faster than I thought it would. We need to prepare the others…" and he paused so that Cloud could let his implications sink in.

Vincent was giving up. Even after promising Tifa.

But, Cloud could ALMOST understand his reasoning. In the course of half a day, he had gone from functioning almost normally to being unable to walk or move without extreme pain. But dammit if it wasn't frustrating!

Vincent finally continued speaking. "If Reeve doesn't come up with a miracle within the next 48 hours, I don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell," he whispered. Even talking was an effort, now. His lungs burned every time he drew a breath. "Cloud, even if Reeve finds some way to stop my body from deteriorating, I don't want to live with a tube stuck in my arm. I don't want to live with this kind of pain. Even if he manages to halt it, there are too many things wrong with me to make it worth staying behind," he whispered. "Would you wish this pain on anyone, Cloud? I wouldn't. I think… You may have to just let me..." He shook his head weakly. "I died thirty-five years ago, Cloud. Everything after that was just a bonus," he continued. "I've been living on borrowed time, but now I have to pay my debt. Cloud… when the time comes… can you let me go?"

Cloud shivered and looked away, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the tears. His mind wouldn't accept it.

"I'm so tired," Vincent whispered. "I've waited to rest for thirty five years. Thirty five years of pain. Would you take it away from me if I decided that I wanted it? Cloud… Don't be cruel. The past twenty four hours have given me a lot of time to think…"

Cloud stood up abruptly and walked over to a small chest. Opening it, he pulled out a tiny glass bottle and walked back over to the gunman. Vincent could see that the bottle was filled with a sparkling red powder.

"Cloud… if I succumb to this, there aren't enough phoenix downs in the world to bring me back. The only thing that might have worked was Chaos, and He returned to slumber a year ago." Vincent shook his head, already resigned to his fate. He watched Cloud with slight confusion as he realized that the blonde was shaking. Peering more carefully at Cloud's face, he saw that the swordsman was weeping openly. Vincent tried to sit up straighter, but Cloud sank down onto his knees and fell forward to embrace the gunman tightly as Tifa had done.

"I don't know what to do, Vincent…" Cloud whispered, closing his eyes tightly. "It's not fair!"

Vincent had removed the glove on his hand earlier; he now stroked the blonde man's hair with unfeeling fingers as he had seen Tifa do once to comfort a distressed Marlene. It was back when Denzel was stricken with Geostigma; Marlene was a tough little girl, but even she had had her broken moments. Vincent tried to blink away a haze that filled his vision.

Oh no. At first, he thought that his eyes were misting in emotion, but when the fog didn't recede, he realized that it was because the problem wasn't with faulty tear ducts. His optic nerves must be beginning to fail… His body was to the point now where his systems were beginning to slow down. Over the course of the next few days, his systems would begin to wear out, he knew, because his body could no longer maintain the alterations Hojo had made to it. Vincent knew that it wouldn't be long before all his joints would begin to ache… Frankly, he'd expected that to be one of the first things to happen.

"Cloud…" He whispered, moving his hand to hold the blonde tightly to him so Cloud wouldn't think Vincent was pushing him away. "Cloud… I think you should know… my vision is starting to go. I think part of it is the mako… my bloodstream is trying to purge itself, and my optic nerves are beginning to fail." Cloud gripped the fabric of Vincent's front even more tightly.

"I'm sorry Vincent… maybe I am a selfish bastard, but I don't want you to go," he whispered. Vincent sighed. Cloud wasn't going to give up even if Vincent WAS. Cloud pulled away slowly, wiping his eyes dry with the back of one hand as he reached into his pocket with another. Vincent's eyes snapped open as he felt a pleasant tingle settle all over his body. Slowly, he felt the open wounds on his shoulders finally begin to scab over. Even the pain had receded somewhat.

"Cloud… what did you do?"

Cloud smirked. "Took some of your advice. I cast ReGen. I figured part of the problem was that potions only restore lost energy in a moment; ReGen works by constantly healing you for a period of time. It's by no means a permanent fix, but it should help you function better," Cloud explained with a slight smile. Slowly, Vincent straightened and rose to his feet. For the first time all day, he actually had something to smile about.

"Thank you, Cloud. It helps." But Vincent didn't tell Cloud that the haze hadn't lifted. Hopefully, though, his body might be able to repair itself now that it finally was getting a chance to heal without drain… but somehow, Vincent doubted that that would be the case. It was still only a matter of time. He slowly walked over to stand in the patch of Aerith's flowers to look up into the sky. After all, it could be the last time he'd ever see it.

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End Chapter Eight! R&R! R&R to save Vincent!


	9. Chapter 9

To **KT, Lord Makura, One Winged Cetra, VeryCrazyGirl, Mannariel, RedSeraph, semeru, Gizmo, drachenmagier, **and **tmntyyh- **Your death threats have all been taken into consideration. I have come to a decision, though it's not exactly what you're all expecting. But you'll be happy, don't worry. To **Chaxra-san **and **Kysic-** Don't worry, you'll be happy too. Both parties will be satisfied, and those of you that would swing either way won't be disappointed, either. But keep the reviews coming! They make me update faster. And I accept constructive criticism, and if anyone feels like analyzing the story or just want to put in their two cents, that's fine by me! I trust that all of you are mature enough to refrain from flaming me when the ending comes. But you'll like it, so I shouldn't have to worry, ne? ;)

**KT**- actually, the fact that you HAD tears in your eyes makes me a very happy authoress. It means that I have succeeded in making this little fic into what a story SHOULD be: a well-told narrative that strikes such a chord within the audience that it actually draws an emotional reaction out of the reader. Congratulations! You have succeeded in making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

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Disclaimer: If I actually OWNED FFVII, it wouldn't be called FANfiction, now, would it? But this plot bunny is MINE. -pets-

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Running out of Time: Chapter Nine.

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For the rest of the day, Vincent alternated between sitting or standing to gaze distantly at the sliver of blue sky and dozing restlessly. He and Cloud both agreed on at least one thing: Vincent needed to conserve his strength in order to hold out as long as possible. The numbness in his fingers grew worse, but he couldn't try to massage the feeling back into the hand without his OTHER hand, much to his frustration. As he had predicted, his joints began to ache before evening had fully set in. But he had been expecting that, as the rearranging Hojo had done to them would be sure to become irritated by his motions. He went as long as he could stand before refreshing the ReGen spell. For a while after Cloud's initial casting, he could get by on potions alone, but the pain gradually worsened as the hours dragged by.

Cloud could only look on in despair as Vincent seemed to fade with the setting sun. When the wounds on his shoulders began to seep again, Cloud wordlessly went through the entire process of changing the bandages again. It almost felt like a ritual. A macabre ritual, anyway. It was those moments that made Cloud painfully aware of just how much was at stake on Reeve's investigative ability.

But then there were moments when the gunman seemed so peaceful and content that Cloud could almost believe that nothing was wrong. At this very moment, Vincent stood serenely in the center of the flower patch, a tranquil almost-but-not-quite-smile gracing his alabaster lips. The crimson eyes were closed, his face lifted to catch the dying rays of the sun's flaming glory as the twilight gathered around him. Cloud watched silently as the colors of dusk ran together to blend like a watercolor painting, doused in an accidental stroke of inspiration by the artist. The red and violet of nightfall's approach seemed to merge with the crimson silk of the gunman's tattered cape to paint him in an unearthly light. For an irrational instant, Cloud thought that, somehow and against all reason, the impossible had occurred. This was no mortal man standing before his eyes. Surely this was an angel, and Vincent was already gone, out of his reach forever.

But then the light shifted, and Cloud was pulled back into the reality he wanted to shut out. Vincent seemed to blend into the twilight. He remained motionless, as though trying to pull strength out of the last rays of the dying sun.

Cloud closed his eyes, trying to hold that image from moments past in his mind. If Vincent disappeared… if he, too faded into twilight, Cloud wanted to be able to forever picture the enigmatic gunman as he had just been… bathed in the ethereal light, a masterpiece painted by a divine hand, a fleeting instant captured for eternity. Cloud wanted to burn the image into his mind. This was how Vincent must be remembered: not by his dying frailty, but by his majestic _presence._ His spirit. Vincent had never quite ceased to invoke a sense of awe in Cloud; here was a man whom Death himself could not conquer.

Cloud sobered. Death could not conquer Vincent ONCE… but He was winning the second round. Vincent finally lowered his uplifted face. He opened his eyes slowly, as though he were either reluctant to return to the present or still savoring the day's glorious expiration. And Cloud thought he finally understood.

"What do you see, Cloud?"

Cloud looked up, startled by the gunman's perceptive question. Vincent's compelling crimson eyes would not let him speak anything but the truth. Slowly and with great reluctance, Cloud voiced his anguished revelation.

"Something… to cherish," he whispered, "…but not to keep."

Vincent smiled, a warm expression that should have been completely out of place on the gunman's face, but… somehow, Cloud felt like it had always belonged there.

They stood in a comfortable silence, letting the minutes slip by until Cloud couldn't be sure how much time had passed. He cleared his throat, about to speak, when Vincent suddenly convulsed. Cloud sprinted over to Vincent's aid, but he wasn't fast enough to catch the gunman before he fell to his hand and knees, coughing uncontrollably. Cloud helplessly laid a hand on Vincent's shoulder to help brace him. Shuddering violently, Vincent fell back to a kneel with Cloud squatting beside him. Cloud couldn't help but feel a pang of distress as the coughing went on and on. When it finally ceased, Vincent did not lower the hand covering his mouth.

"Vincent… are you all right?"

The gunman nodded silently, fighting to catch his breath. When he finally managed to settle into a more regular breathing pattern, he slowly lowered the hand. He glanced briefly at it before shutting his eyes and closing it into a fist, hiding it from Cloud's view. But his actions did not escape the blonde's notice.

"Vincent… show me."

Trembling, Vincent slowly extended his hand to Cloud and opened the fingers. Even in the dim light, the dark crimson smear on Vincent's palm was easy enough to distinguish.

"Cloud… I…" But before Vincent could finish the sentence, he convulsed a second time and began coughing anew. This time, he made no effort to cover his mouth. Instead, he fell forward to land on his elbow, helpless to stop the hacking that tore through his fragile frame. Cloud felt sick. He fought the feeling down, but more than once, he tasted bile at the back of his throat. He watched Aerith's flowers become spattered with red as Vincent continued to cough helplessly. Finally, Cloud fumbled for the materia he'd used earlier.

"ReGen, dammit!" He prayed silently for some sign that the spell had helped. It seemed to do the trick, as Vincent finally stopped hacking and slowly sat up. Panting raggedly, Vincent wiped his mouth with the back of his bloodstained hand. He hastily wiped the blood off onto the red cape. Cloud noted that the blood blended in so well with the red that, when he looked away and then back again, he could no longer discern the exact location of the new stain. Well, not until it dried, anyway. Vincent's ragged breathing gradually eased. Glancing down at the flowers, his lips moved in a whisper so faint, Cloud thought he had misheard the words.

"Sorry, Aerith…"

Cloud tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. It was being rather persistent, today. "Can you stand?" He murmured.

Vincent gave a bitter laugh. "Yes. But I'd rather not. I think I'm going to stay right here for a while. Besides, these flowers are softer than the floor or the bench…" he muttered in a raspy whisper.

Cloud just sat with his hands on his knees and fisted so tightly that his knuckles were white. He trembled before finally whispering hoarsely, "I don't know what to do anymore, Vincent. I don't want you to go… but I don't want you to hurt like this, either!" He shut his eyes tightly, moisture beading at the corners. "I don't want to lose anyone else. I already lost Zack and Aerith! No more," he whispered, reaching up with a hand to cover his eyes as though to hide his grief. Another tear spilled down his cheek. "No more…"

Without warning, Cloud slammed a fist into the floorboards, sending splinters into the air as dust was shaken from the rafters. "So Gaia DAMN it, I'm going to TRY! Even if you won't, Vincent," he hissed. "If there's a way to make you better without any more pain, then I swear to Holy, I'm gonna find it!"

Vincent looked away, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry I can't be any stronger…"

Cloud shook his head. "Shiva, Vincent! It's not your fault! It's not like there was anything you could have done to stop this from happening!"

Cloud and Vincent both jumped as Cloud's phone rang loudly. Wordlessly, Cloud pulled it out and flipped it open.

"…Hello? Reeve? …. Say what?" Cloud's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'nothing!?'………………… great," he muttered bitterly. "No… yeah, he's here. …We're in the church. …." Cloud glanced over at Vincent briefly before speaking again into the phone. "…Not so good. It's pretty bad, Reeve. …No. …He said to plan for worst-case. …Yeah. Yeah, I know… … …You've got two days, Reeve. That's all, if it keeps going downhill at this rate. …No. I don't know. …'Bye." He flipped the phone shut with a snap. "Reeve says the search fell through. There's nothing in Junon."

Vincent sighed. "I didn't think there would be. So, now we need to pick our brains, Cloud."

With another sigh, he let himself fall back to land, spread-eagled in the flowers. Then, after a moment, he began to chuckle.

Cloud glanced at the gunman warily. Had he finally snapped? "Mind sharing the joke?"

Vincent shook his head in amusement. "I was just thinking to myself that if things turn out badly, I need to remember to thank Aerith when I see her. For planting these flowers." He inhaled deeply; the cloying scent of the flowers was making him drowsy again.

"I don't see what's so funny about that," Cloud muttered. When Vincent didn't respond, Cloud turned to see that the gunman had already fallen asleep. Cloud stood up with a sigh to go find a blanket. It was cool in the church at night.

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End chapter nine! Read and review, folks! It keeps the creative juices flowing. And it puts me in a merciful mood. -cackles-


	10. Chapter 10

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_**READ THE FOLLOWING NOTES OR YOU SHALL WONDER "WTF JUST HAPPENED?"**_ **Important note #1:** Woo-hoo! Thank you all for 1,000 hits in three days! You guys rock! -happy tears- 

Sadly, Running out of Time is coming to an end. I only have a few chapters left. I've tried to drag it out as long as possible, but you must keep in mind that the farthest I've ever gotten on a multichapter fic while working on my own was three chapters, including the prologue, so really only two. This will be the first multichapter I've ever actually COMPLETED, solo work or no. I just wanted to thank everyone for being there from the start, four days ago (I'm updating fast because I've been writing all day, everyday until yesterday.) This is a cornerstone of my literary accomplishment, as it is the first multichapter I have ever followed through with until the bitter end. I know it hasn't lasted long, but I've done my best, and I have no regrets. To pseudo-quote Cloud (and therefore quote myself): "Sometimes the thing we cherish most is the one thing we cannot keep." That is the essence of Running out of Time. Yes, it has a moral, folks. Sorry to disappoint you. n . This fic was destined to be short-lived. I never expected to make it last as long as it already has.

**Important note #2 (and the answer to all of your questions):**

No, this isn't the last chapter. It's chapter ten, the second-to-last chapter of my twelve chapter tale. Just like all the good anime series- only 12 (or 13) episodes. Yes, I know how to count. 10 plus one is 11, not 12. That's because it's 10 plus 2. As promised, I will now seal the doom of Vincent Valentine…. Drumroll, _please_!

ANNNNND…. I'm not writing a happy ending. I'm not writing a sad ending, either. I'm writing BOTH. That way, everyone can be happy!!!!!!! But you have to read the sad one first. I'm posting it first. That way, once you're all nice and choked up, you can read the happy ending to cheer yourself back up again. After all, it makes no sense to do it the other way around. Being too happy from the good ending will pull you out of the proper mood that is required to read the SAD ending. You need to already be depressed, ne? Otherwise it won't work. And besides, you'll just make yourself cry again after you've finally managed to get good and HAPPY. Where's the logic in that? Don't be silly, folks!

**Important author note #3:**

Don't be completely depressed, though: I have a proposal for you all. You have but only to ask, and I will write (separately) "Running out of Time: the Lost Chapter," a Strifentine that would, if I actually write it, take place during the night that the previous chapter ended with. I am now regretting my promise to keep this fic a PLATONIC Vin/Cloud. I'm itching to write a Strifentine in this particular fic, and it could easily fit right here, without me having to change any of the existing chapter content. I just wanted to keep this fic non-yaoi so that it would be acceptable to a wider audience. The yaoi-lovers can read it as a Vin/Cloud that just doesn't get dirty, but the yaoi-haters can read it comfortably secure in the fact that Vincent and Cloud are not doing naughty things to each other offscreen. But those that are wanting this to be a Strifentine can request that I write the missing chapter, thereby satisfying their craving for BL without me offending the yaoi-haters by putting it directly in the fic. But, if no one's interested, I won't write it, because it wouldn't make much sense as a standalone oneshot. One request is all it takes, though, and if ONLY one person makes a request, I will dedicate the missing chapter to them. It's only fair, right? Put your request in the form of a **review**; I don't have access to email right now, so I won't receive your PMs if you try to send me one and request it THAT way. But I can read reviews on the site, so I don't need access to email to get your requests if you put them at the end of your review.

**Note #4:**** If you want to guess how Vincent will still manage to make it out of this alive, take a shot at it in the review and I will PM you telling you whether or not you guessed correctly. When I post the very last chapter, I'll list the winners!!!!! Because if I were you, I'd be wondering how saving him is still ****possible****, at this point.**

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Disclaimer: Much as I wish it were true, I do not own FFVII. It just wasn't meant to be. But I do own a lot of plot bunnies, including this one. I named him Fluffy. Like Cerberus. I mean Fluffy- you know, from Harry Potter? So yeah, my brain works weird. Vincent- Cerberus- Three headed dog in mythology- Three headed dog in HP - Fluffy. So the plot bunny shall be named Fluffy. 'Cause bunnies are fluffy. Yeah. Oh, never mind!

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Running out of Time: Chapter Ten 

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Cloud woke with a start at the sound of footsteps echoing faintly from somewhere to his left. With a groan, he cracked an eye open to see that Vincent was no longer sleeping in the flowerbed. Only a wrinkled blanket lay in the depression left by the gunman's lanky form. Cloud glanced up through the hole in the vaulted ceiling to see that it was already well into morning. Waiting for his sleep-muddled head to clear, Cloud blearily watched the dust motes floating lazily to sparkle like glitter in the sunlight filtering down through the rafters, lighting the hallowed ground with a warm, golden glow that reminded Cloud of an old photograph. Everything seemed a little fuzzy around the edges, almost dreamlike. It also reminded him of Aerith and faintly of some happy, distant summer that he couldn't recall or maybe had only dreamed about. After all, he hadn't exactly had a very pleasant childhood. 

Yawning, he stood with a bone-cracking stretch. Vincent watched solemnly from his seated position on the pew, waiting until the blonde had straightened with a sigh before speaking.

"Good morning," he murmured gravely, drawing a slightly incredulous stare from Cloud. Since when had the silent gunman become so… chatty?

"Uh… mornin,'" he replied in slight confusion. He noticed that Vincent had somehow gotten a hold of a small, unmarked, black-bound book. It looked like it might be a novel. Firmly dragging his attention back to the task at hand, he noted Vincent's easy and relaxed posture. Maybe today wouldn't be one of the "bad" days. "How's your back?"

Vincent gave an easy shrug. "Relatively speaking, I feel fine. Tifa stopped by earlier. She brought this book with her, thinking I would appreciate having something to do. A diversion. She changed the bandages while she was here," he added. "She's such a considerate woman… She loves you, you know," he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Cloud's expression became guarded. "…So did Aerith and Zack. Look where it got _them_. Nobody can love me…" he whispered. "Everyone who does just gets hurt. Anyone who gets too close to me."

Vincent laughed; a low, rich laugh that Cloud couldn't ever recall hearing before in his life. Vincent cleared his throat hastily and schooled his expression into one of stern reproval. "You should stop talking like that, Cloud. You're starting to sound like _me_," he deadpanned. "I shudder to think what might happen if you took my place as the… melancholy social recluse."

Cloud gaped. "Was that… a _joke_?"

Vincent frowned, giving Cloud a "what am I, a brick?" glare. Cloud shook his head, feeling slightly dazed. Maybe he was still dreaming. A really weird dream. It wasn't even a very _good_ dream. He'd MUCH rather be dreaming about… er, something else. Better not go there. He firmly pushed _those_ thoughts out of his head. Maybe his subconscious was just really uninventive. Either that, or he really _was_ awake, and Vincent Valentine had just cracked a joke. Now _that_ was just plain _silly_, because it Didn't Happen. Maybe the world was ending, or something.

"Cloud?" Vincent's quiet inquiry snapped him out of his ridiculous speculating. He realized that he had been staring at the gunman. Cloud quickly averted his eyes.

"Sorry. Just… preoccupied," Cloud muttered. Without warning, his stomach gave a deafening growl. Vincent chuckled and Cloud flushed in embarrassment.

"Go. You're not a machine, Cloud. I'll be all right for a little while longer."

Cloud eyed the gunman dubiously. Vincent brushed off Cloud's skepticism. "You're not helping me by starving yourself."

With a sigh, Cloud just shook his head and walked slowly towards the heavy doors. Glancing back once over his shoulder to give Vincent an odd look, he swept out the door with one last "Don't do anything dumb until I get back."

Vincent sighed before looking with sightless eyes at the book in his hand. Tifa had tried, that was what counted. He stood and walked silently towards the flowers to stand amongst them. They were the easiest thing to find in the church; he could follow their heavenly perfume from any point in the crumbling building. Besides, there was no clutter for him to trip over amongst Aerith's flowers. He lifted his chin to catch the warmth of the sunlight. Even though he could not see it, he could still feel it.

Vincent sat down carefully as he felt the ReGen spell beginning to wear off. Already, his shoulders had begun to throb. Tifa had found a medical adhesive that kept the wounds closed, but it couldn't block the pain. He had already exhausted all of his mental ability on trying to think of something,_ anything _they hadn't yet tried in an effort to cure him. But that was just the problem; there was no disease _to_ cure. This wasn't Geostigma. The only thing that had prevented exactly this from happening the first time was the infusion of Chaos. Mako alone was insufficient, and there wasn't enough time to see if the process could be slowed, stopped, or even reversed by exposure. They were running out of time.

Vincent was shaken abruptly from his reflections as a wave of sickening pain washed through his body. Already resigned to it, he merely braced himself, physically and mentally. It grew worse with each second, finally building to a head that left him gasping for air, before it receded again, a dull throb in the background. Every ten minutes or so, it would come back, slightly stronger than before. Cloud had put the bag of potions somewhere in the room, but Vincent wasn't going to risk getting up to search for them.

Without warning, his chest suddenly burned with a white-hot pain centered squarely on his heart… the scar that Rosso had left him with was burning unbearably. Vincent couldn't hold back the scream this time. Cloud must have just arrived and heard it from the outside, because he came crashing through the door at a dead run seconds later. Vincent fell writhing to the ground, clutching the source of his pain with his hand. Cloud skidded to a halt, kneeling at the stricken gunman's side.

"Vincent. Vincent! What is it!?"

Vincent couldn't get the words out. Cloud finally pulled Vincent's hand away from the place to see something glowing through the black fabric. It wasn't the scar that was burning. His body was rejecting the Protomateria. After all, it _was_ a foreign object. But the Protomateria was reacting, too. Cloud didn't know what to do. All he knew was that somehow, that thing needed to be OUT of Vincent, because it was hurting him.

"Vincent, can you hear me?" A stiff nod. "It's the Protomateria- Your body's fighting it, or something, and it's fighting back. What do you want me to do!?"

Vincent shuddered, trying to put two words together. "C-…. Cut… Ah! Get… out! Get it out!… I… d-don't… c-care h-h… how," he finally gasped .

Trying not to be sick at the thought, Cloud quickly pulled first the cape and then the black shirt off of Vincent's body. The glow was far more apparent without the black fabric covering it. The scar was stretched, raw and angry-red. Even as Cloud watched, the old wound seemed to be… reverse-healing. With a shock, Cloud realized that the Protomateria was burning its way out. Cloud tried to tell himself that it was just like removing a bullet… that thing had to come out or it would kill Vincent. What to do?

Fortunately, Cloud never had to make the decision. After only a few more seconds, the scar had reopened and Cloud was looking directly at the pulsating orb. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself and reached down to wrap his fingers around it. Without hesitating, he ripped it out. Oddly enough, it was quite cool to the touch. He tossed it aside before reaching to touch the Heal materia. First he cast Cure3, then ReGen. The wound sealed up. Cloud rose and staggered off to heave up his breakfast.

Vincent's breathing gradually slowed. Once the pain in his chest faded, he began to laugh quietly. Finished retching, Cloud wiped his mouth and walked over to sit next to the gunman.

"Better?"

Vincent nodded. "Isn't it odd, Cloud, how the object that once saved my life nearly killed me just now?"

Cloud nodded, spent. "Yeah, it's funny… if you're a f---ing masochist."

Vincent rolled over to spit out a mouthful of blood. They both started at the sound of loud knocking on the door. Before they could answer, the door opened.

"Cloud… who is it?"

Cloud looked at Vincent, startled. "What do you mean who? It's Tifa. You're staring right… at…" He inhaled sharply. "You can't see her." It wasn't a question.

Vincent didn't answer.

Tifa ran over, panting. "Cloud! Vincent! I have an idea! Oh, I don't know why we didn't think of this before!"

Cloud sprang to his feet. "You do? What is it?"

Tifa grinned. "Why don't you ask Aerith?"

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End chapter ten. R&R. If you didn't read the notes above, shame on you! Go read them! Otherwise you won't understand the next chapter I post!!!!!!!


	11. Ending ver A

Okay, guys, this is it. The last chapter. Well, the FIRST last chapter. This is the tear-jerker version. Read it and review, and I'll post the happy ending. It IS sad, so be nice. I don't like the idea of being murdered; that'll make it kinda hard to write the HAPPY version…

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Disclaimer: FFVII belongs to Square-Enix. The plot bunny I have dubbed Fluffy, however, is ALLLL MINE!!!!!

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Running out of Time: Final Chapter. 

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"Why don't you ask Aerith?" 

Cloud blinked. He blinked again. Then, he smiled. Silently echoing Tifa's question of WHY, oh great holy Alexander _WHY_ hadn't they thought of that at the beginning of this whole mess, he closed his eyes and projected his thoughts.

_Aerith. I need you. I need help. Can you hear me?_

He waited as the minutes went by. Finally, the light in the room seemed to condense into the form of the young Cetra. With a sad smile, Aerith opened her eyes to stand before them, an angel, she seemed, amongst the flowers. But only Cloud could see or hear her.

"Oh, Cloud…" she whispered. "Vincent… I'm so sorry."

Cloud stepped forward, a painfully hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Aerith… is there was way to save Vincent? Can't you do something?"

Aerith gave Cloud the most heartbroken smile he'd ever seen. "Oh, Cloud… Chaos has returned to Gaia… there's nothing I can do about it. I can't break the rules. Even for a friend…" were it not for the fact that Cloud could feel the most abject sorrow radiating from the flowergirl, he would have screamed.

"What rules? Who cares about rules! They can be broken! Can't you make an exception? It's not his time, yet! Aerith…"

Aerith just shook her head sadly. "Nobody can break the laws of nature. Not even me. I'm sorry. Tell Vincent that I'm glad he thought my flowers were helpful. I'm sorry I can't help."

Cloud shut his eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to leak out. He felt a sudden coolness and opened his eyes to see that Aerith had stepped forward to give him a ghostly embrace.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of him when it is time… Goodbye, Cloud."

Aerith faded, but Cloud remained rooted to the spot. Slowly, he sank to his knees, his mind blank in the face of his powerful denial. Even though she and Vincent already knew the answer, Tifa felt that she had to ask.

"What… did she say?"

She could barely hear Cloud's whispered reply. "She couldn't help. There's nothing that can be done."

Tifa swallowed down her tears; she needed to be strong for Cloud and Vincent's sake. "Then I guess it's time to break the news, isn't it? Vincent? What do you want us to do?" Tifa was proud that her voice didn't even waver as she spoke.

Vincent found that he had been drifting off again. Shaking his head clear, he didn't even look up as he answered. After all, he couldn't be sure that he'd be looking at Tifa, anyway. "… I want to get out of here. Out of Edge. There's a spot I used to go to on the outskirts of Midgar… overlooking the city. By the sword." Cloud knew that Vincent meant. Zack's grave. The view from the cliff was spectacular. In the few years since the clone incident, the landscape sprawling below had become green and alive, and the sunsets were breathtaking when viewed from the location. Cloud realized Vincent wasn't done. "I'd like… to go there. The others can come if they have anything to say, I suppose…"

Tifa nodded. "Vincent… what about the kids? Marlene will be…"

Vincent smiled. "Tell her… that I went to stay with Aerith. A long-term visit to see the flower-girl. She'll know it means, but I think she'll be able to accept it."

Tifa nodded again before turning to go. Hesitating, she left with one last whispered sentence. "I'll gather everyone up. You guys should get going."

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By the time Cloud had gathered everything up, Vincent was trembling with the pain again. There was just one thing left. "What do you want me to do with the Protomateria?"

Vincent thought about it for a moment. He smiled as an idea came to him. "Keep it. Or, if it's too painful of a reminder, you can give it to Yuffie… it's the one materia she never could steal from me."

Cloud shook his head. "I… I'll keep it. What about the claw?"

Vincent frowned thoughtfully. "…Help me reattach it. I'll need two hands to hold on to you for the drive. We'll leave it on, after that. I don't like being crippled…"

Cloud sighed. Vincent would know best, he supposed. He pulled the metal monstrosity out of the items bag and squatted down next to the gunman. Vincent held out his arm.

"There's a mechanism in the port that connects the nerve to the wires so I have full control over the hand. It requires a twist to release, but you only need to insert it into the metal socket to reattach it. It's actually very clever, as far as the locking mechanism goes. Though the design is somewhat awkward…" He trailed off with a chuckle. The thing was better suited as a can opener than as an appendage. But it had its uses.

Cloud carefully lined up the connecting pieces and snapped them together. He hadn't been prepared for the gunman's reaction, though. Vincent tried to bite back a pained scream that came out as a muffle moan; the metal limb jerked away from Cloud of its own volition, gouging a bloody gash on the blonde's arm. Vincent flinched at Cloud's startled yelp.

"Sorry…"

Cloud shrugged. "It's all right; it'll heal. I just wasn't expecting that. It doesn't hurt too bad; it's not that deep."

Vincent grunted. He was still upset that he had injured the blonde at all. Cloud helped Vincent carefully stand and led the gunman cautiously out of the church and to the waiting Fenrir.

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Cloud kept silent all the way to the cliff, deciding not to mention that the claw was cutting into the skin of his waist. He didn't really mind, if it meant that Vincent wasn't going to fall off. Approaching the cliff, he slowed down until they rolled to a stop, the Fenrir's roar quieted to a muted purr.

After a murmured "we're here," Cloud gently lifted Vincent off of the bike and propped the gunman up against a tree that had, for some reason, managed to sprout up and grow rather tall in a scant handful of years. It was about as close to the cliff edge as it could get without being too close for a person to relax against it comfortably. Maybe whatever substance that was responsible for creating the monsters that had suddenly appeared in droves was also responsible for growing monster _trees_. Cloud grabbed the bag of items and positioned himself at the gunman's side. The trunk was wide enough for both of them to lean against it without having to sit uncomfortably close.

…He really needed to remember to tell Reeve about it later; they should investigate what WAS making monsters and freak plants appear where none had been before. It should take decades for a tree to get this big, not a paltry five years.

He sighed. No use in thinking about it now. There were more important things to be thinking about. Like Vincent. He reached to dig a potion out of the bag, bottles clinking noisily. But the gunman reached over to touch Cloud's arm.

"Don't bother. They aren't doing any good anymore. Besides, if there's no hope for recovery, why drag the process out? And after a while, I stop noticing the pain, anyway…"

Cloud brushed away a solitary tear and tossed the bag roughly aside. He thought he heard a bottle crack, but he didn't really care. They were useless, now, anyway.

Vincent sighed softly before speaking again. "Even if I can't see it, I can feel the difference out here. The air is cleaner. Warmer. I can picture this place so perfectly in my mind that it doesn't really matter, anyway… Sometimes, I'd come up here to think," he murmured, "and I'd see that you had left fresh flowers… there… from the church."

Cloud closed his eyes, remembering something he'd wanted to say earlier but had forgotten. "Aerith says you're welcome. About the flowers. She's glad they helped. And… she says she'll take care of you when… you know." Vincent nodded wordlessly. They sat in comfortable silence for an hour or so until Cloud heard the muted roar of the Shera's engines. Tifa must have called Cid first and pulled everyone on the airship to bring them. It was the fastest way, he supposed. Sure enough, there it was, a shining silver speck that was quickly growing larger as it approached. Cloud didn't even look up as it went overhead to land some distance away behind them. After a few minutes, he heard hurried footsteps approach.

"Cloud! Vincent! I brought everybody! I even dragged Reeve here!" Tifa called as she came up to stand awkwardly off to the side.

One by one, they all came up the hill. Yuffie, Cid, Barret, Nanaki, Reeve, and Marlene had all come. Cloud turned to look at Tifa and gesture to Vincent's eyes before shaking his head. With a small gasp, Tifa nodded, and walked quickly over to whisper a warning to the others about this sudden negative development. Looking appropriately horrified, they all turned to look at the seated pair with a new level of respect and depression.

---

Each of them came up to pay their respects in their own way. Yuffie clung to Vincent and sobbed for a good ten minutes, expressing everything from apologies for stealing his materia to threatening him with never speaking to him again if he died. With a twisted smile, he just held onto the girl until she'd cried herself out. With a sniffle, she muttered a goodbye before running back to the Shera where she could cry without embarrassing herself in front of the other group members.

---

Barret was content to give a gruff "I'll miss ya, you damn vamp. Give Aerith a hello for me," before walking away to stand off to the side awkwardly, staring at the city of Edge with a faraway look in his eyes. After a while, he shook his head and walked back to the ship with a curse.

---

At first, Cid cursed colorfully and stomped off. But, after a few minutes, he turned back with another bout of elaborate swearing to speak awkwardly.

"Vince… I… I'll miss ya, dammit! We all will. You're… a part of the family, you know?" He shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, #$ it, I was never any good at this shit…"

Vincent chuckled. "We had some good times. Good memories. It's all right," he murmured weakly. Cid just cursed and stormed back to his airship. But Cloud hadn't missed the tears on the older man's face. Cid was profoundly upset. Everyone dealt with grief in their own way.

---

Reeve came over and leaned against the tree, silent. But, after a while, he and Vincent began talking about old times as though nothing was out of the ordinary. By the time he had run out of things to say, Vincent seemed to have relaxed significantly. Wiping his eyes brusquely, Reeve whispered a choked farewell and walked away.

---

Marlene raced forward and threw herself (carefully- Tifa had warned her that Vincent was hurting) into Vincent's arms, crying unashamedly. "Why? Why do you have to leave?" Vincent raised the human hand to stroke her hair gently, soothingly.

"Because it's time for me to go. Don't worry," he murmured. "I'll be with Aerith. Remember her?" Marlene nodded against the red fabric, sniffling. "I'm going to visit her. You'll see me again," he whispered.

Marlene looked up, hopeful. "When?"

Vincent smiled convincingly. "In a very long time. When you see Aerith, you'll see me. Nobody goes away forever; they just go back to the lifestream," he tried to sound reassuring. It seemed to work. Marlene, after all, was a rather precocious little girl. Curling up against Vincent, they simply sat for a while. Eventually, her breathing evened out in sleep and Tifa picked her up gently to take her back to the ship before returning to Vincent's side.

---

Nanaki contented himself with lying beside Vincent, like the faithful canine he so closely resembled. Vincent rested his human hand on the fire-wolf's head, idly scratching the itchy spot behind one ear. Even though Nanaki wasn't an animal, he still shared the same problems that came with walking on four legs and being somewhat lacking in the hands department. Twitching his tail, he finally spoke into the comfortable silence.

"I would like to stay, if that is all right with you, Vincent. After all, you and I have much in common."

Both knew that they preferred each other's company to most of the other AVALANCHE members. They both knew that silence made better conversation than mindless chatter, and both had been victims of Hojo's demented experimentation. Vincent nodded, taking some small measure of comfort in Nanaki's presence.

---

Tifa also opted to remain with Vincent, saying that she had closed the bar for the next few days in light of the recent downward spiral of events. The four of them sat in companionable silence as the evening gave way to night.

---

For the next day, neither Nanaki nor Tifa could be persuaded to leave, so they spent the morning just talking. The idle conversation turned into reminiscing about memorable moments in the past. Vincent was oddly comforted by the leisurely conversation. It drew his mind away from more depressing trains of thought.

---

As the end of the day neared, Cloud didn't bother hiding his grief any longer, or his need to be close to the gunman. Vincent was having trouble sitting upright, anyway, so Cloud shifted so that he was sitting behind Vincent, the gunman leaning comfortably back to rest against Cloud's chest. It was odd, but Cloud couldn't really recall a time where he'd felt so _peaceful_, despite his sorrow. After a while, he looked up with a gasp to see the form of Aerith standing silhouetted before him. She smiled.

"I wanted to be here. And that's not all. Look, Cloud." And she pointed to the rusty Buster Sword embedded in the earth off to his left. There, leaning against the sword was…

"Zack?"

The deceased SOLDIER smiled and walked over to join Aerith. When Tifa gave a startled gasp, echoed closely by Nanaki's, Cloud realized that they, too, could see the spectral figures. Aerith walked over to stand next to Tifa at Cloud's left. Zack came over to sit beside Cloud.

"Hey, friend," he whispered, violet eyes overly-bright. "We decided that we wanted to be here for you. We're… kinda bending the rules a little, but you need us." He laid a ghostly hand on Cloud's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vincent. But, when you're… well, we're here to see you off. You know, cause you're a friend, even if I never got to meet you before I got killed. Any friend of Cloud is a friend of mine, right buddy?" Cloud responded with a trembling smile.

Vincent whispered a barely-audible thanks. The pain had been taken over by numbness, at this point, and a lethargy that seemed to fill his limbs with lead to the point that he couldn't muster enough strength to do more than twitch his fingers. He was so tired. He could tell by the coolness in the air that it was around sunset…

"Cloud… describe the sunset for me, will you?" He whispered. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, the blonde complied hoarsely.

"It's mostly gone, but earlier… it was more golden than I've seen in a while. Must be the clear air. Like the color of the sun before it gets too high in the sky in the morning in winter. Gold and orange. And now… Now it's mostly violet… but it was red like blood just a minute ago."

Vincent gave a weak chuckle. "How appropriate." He closed his eyes for the last time. "A fitting tribute… a fitting tribute." He sighed. Finally, the pain had disappeared altogether. His breathing eased. Cloud reached down to stroke the gunman's cheek, knowing that Vincent found the contact reassuring, his sense of sight no longer allowing him to see Cloud's emotions or reactions by watching his face. Vincent barely felt the touch, though. His mind had begun to wander. If this was what death had felt like the first time, he wouldn't have minded so much. For the first time since that day thirty-five years ago, he felt extraordinarily peaceful. At last, after all these years, he could finally rest. With a final sigh, he relaxed into Cloud's arms.

"…Vincent?"

But the gunman was already gone.

---

For a moment, Cloud was treated to the bizarre double-image of Vincent both laying motionless in his arms and rising to his feet. With a final ghostly embrace, Zack and then Aerith rose to stand beside what Cloud realized to be Vincent's spirit.

"Thank you, Cloud," he said with a smile. _This_ Vincent was strong, free of pain, and free of the weight of the sins he had carried for so long. And in that instant Cloud knew that this was what Vincent wanted. As Cloud watched, the three figures slowly seemed to blur out of focus, until he blinked and they were gone.

Tears coursing down his face unchecked, Cloud bowed his head, cradling Vincent's still form against him as the crimson and violet sky slowly faded into twilight.

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---

Everybody knows so well

What's written on the Doomsday Bell.

Our fates are sealed by our own hand;

So let the dirge ring through this stifled land.

---

No sacred hand to carve into your stone;

Those words may be graven by your hand alone.

A ghosted whisper of burning hope;

A path concealed by the lines you wrote.

---

You search for what cannot be found

As your footsteps echo on hallowed ground.

A prayer uttered to stagnant air,

The truth, the lies, your life laid bare.

---

Behind closed eyes we can truly see

The fraying rope of our destiny;

The path will find you in this cheerless land,

The stillborn questions entombed in sand.

---

Trapped in this city of steel and lies,

You have no worth but what death buys.

Strive to secure your own damnation;

Your blood and tears are the only salvation.

---

Tears of joy and tears of pain,

A sea of tears with nothing gained.

But when all is lost to death and shame,

The tears alone are what remain.

---

Requiem loosed on static air;

Doom's bell rings the warning knell.

Come, Destruction, thy name is Ruin,

To wake me from this endless Hell.

---

Owari. 

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That last bit… was… I dunno. An "Ode to Vincent," maybe. I DID write it with him in mind. Half of it was inspired by a song that was playing on the radio that has absolutely NOTHING to do with these words, as it was CHEERFUL. I just had the melody stuck in my head, then I changed it a bit and got this… idea. For words. After coming up with the first two lines, I decided that I might as well write more. Then I thought, "Hmmm… this reminds me vaguely of Vincent," and I wrote the rest of it. So, whatever. Absolutely spontaneous creative poetry/song lyrics. But they work, ne?

This is the end of Running out of Time. To placate those of you who are aching for a somewhat happier closure, I will be posting an alternate ending soon. But I need to work on it a bit. I want it to live up to this one. It has to be just as good if it's going to be worthy as an ending to this tragic tale. Read and review to speed up the writing process, you guys! By the way, none of these chapters have been beta'ed. I guess it's a perk of being a little OCD about grammar… anywho, I just wanted to point it out. Yes, I am bragging. Sorry. But, my writing must not be TOO painful, otherwise you guys would have complained, right? Which means that this experiment to decide whether or not I need a beta was successful. I can write well enough on my own, I guess…

Keep your eyes out; the happy ending is coming very soon!


	12. Ending ver B

I realize a lot of you changed your minds and told me that I didn't really have to write this, and I thank you. But I made a promise. Thanks for reading the sad ending, anyway. I still consider the sad ending to be the REAL ending, but I'm writing this as an… alternative solution, but not the original. BTW, some conversations are cut-and-pasted from the other version when the content hasn't been altered despite the context.

Yo! I drew a sketch of a snapshot from the end of the OTHER ending. And by sketch I mean it's in pencil. Don't worry; I put effort into it. I'm not a crappy artist. Anwho, it's HERE:

http / www . deviantart . com / deviation / 59173294 /

(FFnet hates hyperlinks, so take out the spaces!)

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Disclaimer: We've been through this already. It. Is. Not. MINE! TAKE it! But you can't have Fluffy, the plot bunny.

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Running out of Time: Final Chapter #2, AKA the somewhat happier version. 

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"Why don't you ask Aerith?" 

Cloud blinked. He blinked again. Then, he smiled. Silently echoing Tifa's question of WHY, oh great holy Alexander _WHY_ hadn't they thought of that at the beginning of this whole mess?

_Aerith. I need you. I need help. Can you hear me?_

He waited as the minutes went by. Finally, the light in the room seemed to condense into the form of the young Cetra. With a sad smile, Aerith opened her eyes to stand before them, an angel, she seemed, amongst the flowers. But only Cloud could see or hear her.

"Oh, Cloud…" she whispered. "Vincent is…"

Cloud stepped forward, a painfully hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Aerith… is there was way to save Vincent? Can't you do something?"

Aerith sighed. "Cloud… I… You know that the laws of nature mustn't be broken, don't you? I can't interfere directly," she murmured, holding up a hand to silence Cloud before he could interrupt. With a smile, she spoke again. "But that doesn't mean that there is nothing that can be done. There has been a solution from the start. All you had to do was ask for help." Cloud gave her an astonished stare. She _could_ have mentioned said solution _beforehand_. "You remember how the Geostigma was finally cured?"

Cloud frowned. "It's kinda hard to forget. But, Aerith, that spring has long since dried up! Otherwise we'd be standing in water right now."

Aerith smiled. "In truth, that water was just water that had been infused with mako from the Lifestream. There was an untapped well beneath this church that ShinRa had overlooked. It helped the flowers survive back when ShinRa was still sucking the mako out of the ground… Unfortunately," she murmured, "after Omega played havoc with the flow of the Lifestream, all such wells within a hundred-mile radius dried up… but… can't you think of a place far away from here where the Lifestream came to the surface?" She prodded. Cloud shook his head, mystified. Aerith sighed. "The crater. The Lifestream there is untainted. The reason Vincent's body can't compensate without Chaos is that the current in his body has been disrupted."

Cloud's eyes widened at the revelation. "Meaning…? What?"

Aerith thought a moment. How best to explain? "You know we have a current like the Lifestream in our bodies. Chaos was fused with Vincent all the way to the core. Even when dormant, that current flowed through Chaos as well. But Chaos was ripped away, taking his half of that life-energy with Him. It took a full year before Vincent's body began to respond to the shock, mostly because the mako jumped in to compensate. But it couldn't keep up for longer than that…"

Cloud still didn't understand what finding the Lifestream would accomplish, though. But Aerith wasn't done, yet.

With a smile, she continued. "Coming in contact with the pure Lifestream will redirect the flow of his life force and repair the damage done when Chaos left. He… will still age, Cloud. There is nothing to be done about that. But only slightly faster than you yourself will age. The mako injections slow the aging process," she whispered, "but do not halt it… But, Vincent will be able to heal. Not quite as rapidly as before, I'm afraid… but old, healed wounds will not begin to reopen. It is not perfect… but he will not suffer as much. I can't do anything about the horrors Hojo inflicted on him…" She trailed off with a sad sigh. "His suffering will never truly end until he dies. The missing organs… the amputated limb… the aching scars both inside and out… those, neither Time nor I can heal," she finished with a bitter smile. "At best, he will feel no worse than he did one year ago. I cannot be certain that his blindness will even be healed. You must be content with this, Cloud," she warned.

Cloud nodded silently. He was hoping… for a miracle, he supposed. Which this _was_, but it wasn't a cure-all fix. "Thank you. It's worth a try."

Aerith smiled, already beginning to fade. "Make haste. He doesn't have much time left, Cloud."

And at that, she was gone. Cloud turned to face Vincent and Tifa. Tifa looked at Cloud expectantly. Cloud remained silent for a moment. As soon as Tifa began to worry, though, he broke into a broad grin. "I've got an answer. Call Cid. We'll need the Shera," he said hurriedly, eyes gleaming with hope again. Tifa immediately pulled out her phone to dial the pilot's number. "Aerith said that his internal current is all screwed up because when Chaos left, he tried to pull it out with him. Apparently, getting him in contact with pure mako from the Lifestream will cause the current to repair itself and restore the missing pieces. After that, he'll begin to heal slowly until he's made a full recovery." _I hope_, Cloud added silently. "She said it won't fix problems from before, like the mess Hojo made of his body, but it should fix the new problems. You hearing this, Vincent?" The gunman nodded, slightly dazed. He decided not to point out that Cloud had been talking as though he weren't in the room _anyway_, so what did it matter? Cloud continued, satisfied that Vincent was paying attention.

"You'll begin to age again, but only as fast as you would with the mako injections anyway, so not much faster than me. So… I guess you get your wish. Not immortality, just longevity," he explained before laughing. "I guess in the end, it'll just be me, you, and Nanaki left… the three of us can grow old together. Honestly, I have no idea how long that will be, though…" Cloud shook his head. "Anywho, we need to get to the Northern Crater ASAP. It'll take a while… it's pretty far from here… and the weather looks like it's gonna get bad," he added, with a quick glance through the hole in the ceiling.

"Cid's on his way. He said we have a lot of explaining to do, though," Tifa spoke up, slipping her phone into a hidden pocket under the half-skirt she wore. Cloud nodded and began gathering up their things. He pulled out a potion and pressed it into Vincent's slack hand. After Vincent swallowed it down, he bent down to whisper in the gunman's ear.

"Vince… Aerith said even she didn't know what to expect. About your eyes. So… I'm gonna let them know, all right?" A nod. "I'll hang onto the Protomateria for you until after you're fixed up, alright?" But Vincent shook his head.

"Keep it. I don't want it; I have no use for it. Or, better yet, give it to Yuffie. She'd love it."

Cloud had to smile at that. "All right. She can add it to her collection. Are you sure? It's the one materia she's never managed to steal." But at a shake of Vincent's head, Cloud sighed and pocketed it. "What about the claw?"

Vincent thought for a moment. "Help me reattach it. I want to have it attached when we do this… otherwise, in the rearranging of my life current, it might be excluded from circulation." Cloud nodded and pulled the metal monstrosity out of the item bag, squatting down next to the gunman. Vincent held out his arm.

"There's a mechanism in the port that connects the nerve to the wires so I have full control over the hand. It requires a twist to release, but you only need to insert it into the metal socket to reattach it. It's actually very clever, as far as the locking mechanism goes. Though the design is somewhat awkward…" He trailed off with a chuckle. The thing was better suited as a can opener than as an appendage. But it had its uses.

Cloud carefully lined up the connecting pieces and snapped them together. He hadn't been prepared for the gunman's reaction, though. Vincent tried to bite back a pained scream that came out as a muffle moan; the metal limb jerked away from Cloud of its own volition, gouging a bloody gash on the blonde's arm. Vincent flinched at Cloud's startled yelp.

"Sorry…"

Cloud shrugged. "It's all right; it'll heal. I just wasn't expecting that. It doesn't hurt too bad; it's not that deep."

Vincent grunted. He was still upset that he had injured the blonde at all. They both turned to look as Tifa came over.

"Cid says he has the ship and is waiting outside Edge for us. Let's go. Can the Fenrir carry three?"

Cloud shrugged. "It'll be a tight fit, but we'll manage. Vincent, we're gonna sandwich you between us so you can't fall, alright?" Vincent nodded. Cloud rose to pull Tifa to the side so he could warn her about Vincent's blindness; she gasped in horror, but didn't comment. She and Cloud agreed that Cid should get a warning, so she quickly pulled out the phone and redialed Cid's number. After a hushed conversation, she snapped the phone shut and turned to face Cloud and Vincent.

"All right. We need to get going."

Cloud bent down and pulled the gunman up, slinging the human arm around his shoulder. Carefully, he led Vincent to the Fenrir. He helped Vincent onto the bike before climbing on himself. Once Tifa had slid on behind Vincent, Cloud revved the engine and took off without a word.

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Cloud and Tifa climbed off of the Fenrir first before Cloud lifted Vincent down. Handing the gunman off to Tifa, he quickly rolled the motorcycle up the ramp and onto the Shera. That done, he came back down and the circled around to the actual entrance. Cloud lifted Vincent to carry him in his arms up the stairs, much to the gunman's displeasure. Cid greeted them with a hearty hello, but his enthusiasm died the instant he saw Vincent. Cloud set the gunman down on his feet gently, but Vincent couldn't stand without leaning heavily on Cloud for support.

Cid shifted awkwardly. "Damn… You look like shit, Vince…" He leaned in and laid a hand on the gunman's shoulder. "I hope to Holy that this crazy-assed plan is gonna work. 'Cause otherwise, I don't know what we'd do without ya, Vince. All right!" He shouted at the crew. "Get yer asses in gear! We got LIVES dependin' on how fast you can get us to the Northern Crater! Let's go!" The crewmembers hastily began to power up the ship.

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The ride to the Crater didn't go a planned, however. They had to detour around a massive storm cell that had parked itself directly in the fastest route to their destination. Cid flew as close as he dared to the dark mass of clouds. Even so, the ride was so bumpy that Cloud was feeling more than a little queasy with motion sickness. Vincent was not doing well. The stress of the jarring flight had already thrown him into two coughing fits before they had even gotten to the northernmost continent. Cid looked on in horror as the gunman seemed to be hacking up enough blood for three people. Feeling guilty for causing the attacks through the bumpy flight, he made it his personal task to find a towel and clean up the mess. He honestly couldn't complain when the situation was so dire. Had it been any other time, he would have screamed at Vincent for staining the floor of his precious baby. But he kept that to himself. The gunman already had enough problems to deal with.

"Sorry… about… the floor…" Vincent whispered. Cid gaped for a moment before clapping a hand on Vincent's shoulder, squatting next to the gunman.

"It's fine. You just get better, all right?"

Vincent nodded weakly. He slumped sideways to lean against Cloud; he was exhausted. If only he could sleep… Shaking his head, he struggled to remain alert. But the motion caught Cloud's attention.

"Vincent, just hang on a little longer. We're almost there." Vincent nodded, closing his eyes. So tired. Cloud shook his shoulder. When the gunman only mumbled in response, Cloud shook him harder until he cracked an eye open. "Vincent, come on. Stay with us! Cid," he called, "How much longer!? Vincent's not doing so good!"

"Five more minutes!" The pilot called back.

Cloud cursed. He tapped the gunman on the shoulder and began a conversation, trying to keep Vincent from drifting off. It worked for a minute or two, but…

"Vincent! Come on!" He shook the gunman's shoulders hard enough to knock his head against the wall, but Vincent wasn't responding anymore, and his breathing was shallow and alarmingly slow. "Dammit!" Cloud cursed. "Tifa, Cid! Help me; we're losing him!"

With muffled curses they ran over to try to help. Talking and yelling was getting them nowhere. Cid stood helplessly to the side. With tears streaming from her eyes, Tifa finally growled in frustration and delivered two powerful slaps to both of Vincent's cheeks. Cloud jumped, the cracking sound of her hand hitting Vincent's skin was as loud as a gunshot in these close quarters. Finally the gunman twitched, stirring slightly. Cloud resumed shaking his shoulders.

"Vincent! Wake the hell up!" The gunman groaned and struggled to open one leaden eyelid.

"…Thanks, Tifa. Sorry to worry you…." Tifa just smiled. With a jarring thump, the aircraft stopped moving.

"We're here!" Cid announced. Cloud picked Vincent up before he and Tifa made their way to the Fenrir. There was no time to lose.

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By the time they made it to the center of the crater, they could see that the pit Sephiroth had created had filled. The glow of the mako pool lit the entire surrounding area. Fortunately, it hadn't been touched- this area was just too hazardous to get to by normal means. But Fenrir was not normal. Fenrir was FAR above average.

Cloud was carrying Vincent in his arms again; the gunman's breathing had slowed alarmingly on the ride down, but this time he wouldn't wake. This was their only chance. The trip had used up all of Vincent's remaining strength. They carefully approached the glowing pool. Unsure how to go about the procedure, Cloud was surprised to hear Aerith's voice whisper in his mind.

_Just a touch is all it takes; any more than that and he'll be sucked in. Careful._

Cloud nodded. He pulled the leather glove off of Vincent's hand and quickly held a single paper-white finger out, touching it gently into the pool. They waited as the seconds ticked by.

Suddenly, with a gasp, Vincent's eyes shot open and he pulled the hand back. Cloud hauled him back from the pool, stumbled and fell. Vincent landed on top of him, and he was rather startled to find two blazing crimson eyes peering intently into his own blue, just inches away. Vincent carefully raised the ungloved hand to brush cool fingers against Cloud's cheek.

"Thank you. I'll always remember the kindness you showed me these past few days."

At that, the gunman pulled away and sat up, looking thoughtfully into the pool of mako. Cloud sneezed; Vincent's hair had been tickling his nose as the gunman held him pinned to the ground.

"Vincent… so, you can see?"

The gunman nodded. "And feel. The numbness is gone, along with the pain. I… may need help walking, though… I'm afraid that I am still too weak to stand… Ah!" Cloud had immediately risen to his feet and scooped the gunman up into his arms again. Cloud gave him a mock-glare as Vincent pouted. For pouting it undoubtedly was. There could be no other word for the expression on the gunman's face.

"Who said I was done taking care of you, anyway? You're in NO shape to leave yet! So I hope you don't mind staying just a _little_ longer before you disappear again and go home… or whatever…" He frowned. Where exactly did Vincent live, anyway? Vincent seemed to be echoing his thoughts.

"Cloud… I _am_ home. With my… friends."

With a smile, Cloud turned to go to the waiting airship.

"It took you until now to realize that?"

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---

Everybody knows so well

What's written on the Doomsday Bell.

Our fates are sealed by our own hand;

So let the dirge ring through this stifled land.

---

No sacred hand to carve into your stone;

Those words may be graven by your hand alone.

A ghosted whisper of burning hope;

A path concealed by the lines you wrote.

---

You search for what cannot be found

As your footsteps echo on hallowed ground.

A prayer uttered to stagnant air,

The truth, the lies, your life laid bare.

---

Behind closed eyes we can truly see

The fraying rope of our destiny;

The path will find you in this cheerless land,

The stillborn questions entombed in sand.

---

Trapped in this city of steel and lies,

You have no worth but what death buys.

Strive to secure your own damnation;

Your blood and tears are the only salvation.

---

Tears of joy and tears of pain,

A sea of tears with nothing gained.

But when all is lost to death and shame,

The tears alone are what remain.

---

Requiem loosed on static air;

Doom's bell rings the warning knell.

Come, Destruction, thy name is Ruin,

To wake me from this endless Hell.

---

Owari. 

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That last bit… was… I dunno. An "Ode to Vincent," maybe. I DID write it with him in mind. Half of it was inspired by a song that was playing on the radio that has absolutely NOTHING to do with these words, as it was CHEERFUL. I just had the melody stuck in my head, then I changed it a bit and got this… idea. For words. After coming up with the first two lines, I decided that I might as well write more. Then I thought, "Hmmm… this reminds me vaguely of Vincent," and I wrote the rest of it. So, whatever. Absolutely spontaneous creative poetry/song lyrics. But they work, ne?

Thus ends the story Running out of Time. Ehh, the ending is… _okay._ But not great. I like the other one better. This one feels too sappy. I _hate_ sappy endings that totally don't make sense or fit with the mood of the story. Oh, well. It's all you're gonna get out of me. Need… sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…. -snore-

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Don't forget to REVIEW!!!!


	13. The end, Ode to Vincent Valentine

The theme of Running out of Time in its entirety. It was created with Vincent in mind, but is not meant to be his themesong or anything. Read the note at the bottom in regards to the Strifentine. Yes, I am still working on it. It's 1,713 words so far and still not done… but I have a question for the readers!!!!!

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---

Everybody knows so well

What's written on the Doomsday Bell.

Our fates are sealed by our own hand;

So let the dirge ring through this stifled land.

---

No sacred hand to carve into your stone;

Those words may be graven by your hand alone.

A ghosted whisper of burning hope;

A path concealed by the lines you wrote.

---

You search for what cannot be found

As your footsteps echo on hallowed ground.

A prayer uttered to stagnant air,

The truth, the lies, your life laid bare.

---

Behind closed eyes we can truly see

The fraying rope of our destiny;

The path will find you in this cheerless land,

The stillborn questions entombed in sand.

---

Trapped in this city of steel and lies,

You have no worth but what death buys.

Strive to secure your own damnation;

Your blood and tears are the only salvation.

---

Tears of joy and tears of pain,

A sea of tears with nothing gained.

But when all is lost to death and shame,

The tears alone are what remain.

---

Requiem loosed on static air;

Doom's bell rings the warning knell.

Come, Destruction, thy name is Ruin,

To wake me from this endless Hell.

---

Battered faith to crack the stone

Of iron oaths that stood alone;

Before the onslaught of blighted Day;

The Devil bows his head to pray.

---

Forsake the path you tread once more;

A key to find the hidden door

Of dark delusion's sweet embrace-

The truth that you cannot yet face.

---

The Sword of Judgement hangs above;

The fragile wings of tarnished Love;

The tainted blood that courses down

Holds promise of Judgement's fury unbound.

---

You walk their path but stand alone

For sins which you cannot atone;

Chained and bound by ancient guilt

Make foundations quiver by the faith you built.

---

What is life with purpose spent?

What truth behind the laws you bent?

An answer comes on silenced breath;

The only promise made us is death.

---

The beat of ragged Angels' wings;

The only reason the soul yet sings

A silence echoes where laughter once pealed

We, the authors of the dooms we sealed.

---

Requiem loosed on static air;

Doom's bell rings the warning knell.

Come, Destruction, thy name is Ruin,

To wake me from this endless Hell.

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That is the song in its entirety that I created with Vincent in mind. This is the end of Running Out of Time.

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I did want to know- do you all want me to post the Strifentine as another chapter in this fic (which means upping the rating and changing the summary and putting this as yaoi), or should I post it as a separate entry and make a note at the top saying to read Running out of Time FIRST?


End file.
